


Sastruga

by KiwiWitch



Series: Eye of the Storm [2]
Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Related, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fanart, Fluff, Japanese Mythology & Folklore, Post Three Year Gap, Post-Canon, Sexual Content, Shinto, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:48:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 86,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22018900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiwiWitch/pseuds/KiwiWitch
Summary: The wind returns in winter, carving ridges into hard packed snow.
Relationships: Kagura/Sesshoumaru (InuYasha)
Series: Eye of the Storm [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1507451
Comments: 262
Kudos: 239





	1. Sleet

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! If you’ve just come from reading Born Free, congrats! We did it! If you have not read the sequel yet and would just like some context, you only need to read the first four chapters of Born Free to know where these two left off.
> 
> Please keep in mind that this story is loosely based on am unfinished fic I wrote in 2012, same overall premise but I’ve changed a lot of the characterization and plot, especially when it comes to Kagura’s character.

The rain did not bother him. Nor did the cold. But if Jaken continued his shivering, teeth clattering, one sided conversation, Sesshoumaru was nearly certain he would kick him clean off the side of the mountain.

“ _ Jaken _ .” 

Thankfully the imp snapped his mouth shut without further direction.

They continued on their way through the freezing winter rain, through the persistent drumming of ice against the mountainside. Snow had fallen the week before, thick enough to coat the ground in white; but it had since melted, and then refrozen, and then more of the same in the following days, the hard packed blocks of ice crunched beneath his boots, breaking easily under his weight. The leather proved waterproof, but the rest of his clothing was a little less so, and it was only the heat of his own skin and the strength of his youki that kept icicles from forming on his armor. None of it would slow him down.

Jaken had taken to riding Ah-Un, when his small feet had begun to freeze in the slush. Now the imp simply shivered violently, his arms crossed in front of his chest to retain some warmth in his small frame. A small blessing that he’d remained quiet after the first warning.

Sesshoumaru raised his head from the path, the scent of smoke reaching his nose, smoke and meat and― 

His next step was a little heavier than the last, and when he looked down, his whole foot was swallowed by the print gouged into the dirt.

―dogs. 

Before him, two massive rhododendrons intertwined together to form a circle large enough to allow a carriage to pass through. The former Inu no Taishou himself had brought the saplings when he'd traveled from the south to claim his own land nearly a millenia ago. In the spring, the flowers would bloom with such intensity to give him a headache. But for now, winter had stripped the leaves, leaving only pale, bare branches encased in ice to mark the entrance. Beautiful and a little macabre, in it’s own way, the branches as thin as skeletal fingers and glittering with light reflected in the ice.

He paused, his gaze falling to the kicked up and muddied snow. How long had it been since his return? Jaken had not been in his company the last time he had been here. Seventy-five years? Possibly more, not since the last festival, before his father's death, he couldn't remember.

“Um, Sesshoumaru-sama?” Jaken’s voice was meek. “If you don't mind me asking, where are we?”

“Home.”

The hum of the barrier passed over him, electrifying his hair and fur with static. It did nothing for the cold, but the rain was lessened here, merely a mist rather than the pelting drops of ice they had left behind. Sesshoumaru flared his youki, shaking himself of as much water as he could, though it still left a chill behind on his skin.

Jaken's squawk of surprise made him turn, the imp's awestruck face frozen between the dragon's two necks. Best to give him a task before he went in to hysterics or started asking questions.

“Take Ah-Un to be cared for.”

It took a moment for the order to sink in, as Jaken blinked stupidly at his surroundings before he finally leapt off the dragon's back, snatched up its reins, and began a frantic search for the stables. Without his retainer's eyes on his back, Sesshoumaru allowed himself to finally take a deep breath. Nearly a century since he had returned here, yet the air smelled the same, crisp and clean, devoid of any strong scents to overwhelm his nose. 

The castle loomed, ancient and enduring as ever. The building had stood long before even his father's time, though it had always inspired in him the sense of power his father had. In his youth, the two had come to mean nearly the same thing. Several stories built into the mountain itself in an ascending line, immense, hewn from stone and the wood of ancient forests, it appeared to grow from the mountain, vines and vegetation clung to the massive oblong stone bricks as they rose from the ground. A long walkway led from the yard to the main entry hall, a towering thing built to accommodate even inuyoukai in their true forms, though by the looks of it he may have outgrown it some. Age had hardened the outer cedar walls, solid charred black planks appeared to glitter against the rain; the roof tiles echoed the shimmering quality, glazed a deep midnight blue. As if it had been borne from the night sky itself; a glimmering jewel that had been the seat of his father's clan since the former Inu no Taishou had sought conquest nearly a millenia ago. 

“Sesshoumaru-sama?”

He turned to meet the voice, an old woman who sat in a deep bow just above the steps to the walkway. The steward of the estate. Long grey hair fell around her shoulders to circle around her on the floor, the color of her long robes a blue as deep as the roof tiles and interspersed with silver starbursts.

“Karei.”

At the sound of her name she raised her head. Black eyes glanced over him but did not keep his gaze as she quickly turned her eyes to the ground. Her pale and wrinkled face had not changed, she’d always been old. 

“Welcome home,” she smiled, her eyes closed with the gesture, “We have been expecting our Lord for some time now. We are pleased he's finally come home after so long. Our Lord's rooms have been prepared and we hope that everything is as desired.”

“My attendant has gone to the stables,” he said, unsure how true that was as he removed his boots and ascended the steps and joined her on the walkway. The great pillars towered over them, dark and weathered with age, the wooden steps creaked under his feet.

“He will be seen to.” She rose to her feet slowly to guide him, her long robes trailing behind her. They began to walk, when suddenly, Karei stopped.

“Ah, and it seems that more guests have arrived.” She stopped and turned back towards the gate. From inside the estate, the entryway was nothing more than any another castle gate, thick pillars to hold the wooden doors that would let nothing pass if shut, not even dogs. When he turned to follow her observation, he expected to see someone waiting just beyond the barrier’s glossy film, instead he was greeted by the rumble and bulk of a horseless carriage passing through the gate with little room left to spare.

“She calls herself Momiji, she brings a traveling troupe of entertainers. She participated in the festivities fifty years ago.”

Sesshoumaru’s eyes fell on the woman in front, dwarfed by the carriage, her clothing was soaking wet, but if it bothered her she made no sign of it, a sly smile across her face even while she turned her head down in respect. If not for the oni's horns protruding from her skull he might have mistaken her as a human.

A servant, youthful in all the ways the crone beside him was not, and dressed in the same colors, ran out to greet them. The carriage shuddered to a stop as the woman approached, and the oni smiled brightly at her, revealing tusks that protruded over her upper lip. The sight was almost comforting as she met his gaze and bowed deeply. 

He sniffed derisively, attempted to discern the scents of those inside the carriage. Nothing familiar, except― 

What must have been the largest common bat he’d ever seen clawed its way out and onto the roof of the carriage, black as night and sniffing about until red eyes focused on him and leveled what he would swear was a lethal glare at him. He paused, wondering if it was worth the effort to engage with it, but another inhale had his hackles rising and he turned away with a huff.

They had brought in the scent of the storm.

* * *

She had taken him to the highest rooms in the castle.

What had once been his  _ father's  _ rooms, to be exact.

Despite the years that had passed, it was strange, being there. Untouched as his father had left it all those years ago; he knew even his mother had avoided stepping foot here. Sesshoumaru was surprised to find no dust, no indication of the neglect that the space had been given. He was grateful that whoever had cleaned it had erased any trace of their scent. 

He’d told the old woman off and removed his armor himself, hung it neatly in one of the closets. Next, he hung Bakusaiga and Tenseiga from the hooks in the back wall. Once, it had been Tessaiga that rested on top, in the place of honor, but when he stepped back he thought he felt a contented hum from Tenseiga at being returned to its traditional place. 

It felt odd, as if Bakusaiga was remiss in the place of honor. This was not his room, not his right.

But yet, as he eyed the poison blade, he supposed it was.

He'd proven himself, had he not?

Sesshoumaru turned away from the swords and walked to the other end of the room to open the shoji doors. Outside, a thin film of water sat on the outer edge of the veranda, melted snow and chunks of soft ice that stuck to his feet when he stepped out.

The blue roof tiles below him nearly blended into the forest with the haze of the misting rain. Fog rolled around him, as if he’d stepped out onto the edge of the world. If it had been a clear day, he might have been able to see the ocean, or even the nearby mountain range, but with the mist he could hardly make out the courtyard below. He breathed in, and the smell of rain and ozone tickled his nose.

He turned and slammed the doors shut behind him.

* * *

A small consolation of arriving early was less people. Less people meant less conversation. Less chance of him wanting to kill someone else or Jaken or himself during a mind numbing chat about things he could care less about.

But only just.

“Sesshoumaru-sama, I would humbly like to thank you for allowing us to perform for you. I hope that everything has been enjoyable?”

“Don’t worry about him, Momiji, our Sesshoumaru isn’t well versed in the finer arts, doesn’t know how to show his appreciation. But not to worry, if he truly hated it, you’d be dead.”

“I see, my lord is very generous then.” The woman averted her eyes to the floor with a tinkling laugh. “Then please, my company is not very skilled but I hope the rest of the entertainment is to your liking.”

Sesshoumaru gave a minute nod and reigned in the urge to roll his eyes. So far, her performers were nothing more than common tricksters, the bat hadn’t made an appearance, but the rest of her entourage were just Tanuki and Kitsune who premised their raucous comedy on their shape shifting abilities. He had no interest in such, though as he continued to nurse his cup of sake, he found that his lips had turned up slightly at the corners. 

To his right, his uncle was still speaking in hushed tones with the oni and Sesshoumaru had little interest in whatever history lay there. Gajou had always been a boisterous man, with a weakness for women and alcohol. His hair a darker gray, pulled back into a low ponytail at the base of his skull, his fur draped loosely across his shoulders, two jagged crimson stripes on his cheeks, and lines around his yellow eyes that betrayed his age. 

Gajou continued his positively obnoxious laugh, but Sesshoumaru preferred his company to the others that had arrived before him. Gajou was nothing if not an honest man, had once been a strong warrior, but had never had the tenacity for subterfuge and thankfully avoided prying questions and the snide comments he expected from everyone else.

Sesshoumaru reclined into his fur, idly swishing the sake in his cup, as his eyes scanned the open hall; the space taken up by dogs of various sizes and their humanoid counterparts. His cousins, mostly, though some he couldn’t name nor did he care to. Jaken sat a few feet behind him, though he suspected the imp had fallen asleep long ago. The space seemed too large, as the freezing rain continued to patter around them, for the handful of youkai that lounged on it. Several members of his clan that had traveled from the southern island, all silver haired and golden eyed, relaxed and drank and laughed at the trickster’s jokes. He knew that their attention was not solely on the entertainers. They watched him, assessing his disposition, for any sign of the strength he had been professed to have. But more than that, for any sign of weakness.

Over sixty-five years since his father’s death and they feared a repetition of his faults.

He did not blame them.

“Say, Sesshoumaru!” Gajou started between two heavy gulps from his glass. The woman was still at his side, she refilled his cup when he placed it on the table before him. A smart choice, to choose Gajou as her companion, Sesshoumaru wouldn’t have tolerated her. “I heard you’ve gotten a lot stronger since the last time we met!”

“It has been several decades, uncle.”

“Bah! Some achieve in fifty years what others achieve in five hundred! Time makes no difference.” 

Sesshoumaru snorted. He supposed that was true. It had taken him little more than a year to truly realize his.

“Care to indulge an old man in a duel sometime?” Gajou asked with a smirk.

“I don’t enjoy making a habit of egregious displays of power.” A lie. But if he said it with a straight face, his uncle might believe it. 

“Is this the same Sesshoumaru I knew all those years ago? What happened to that cocky smart mouthed brat? Starting to sound more like your father.” 

“I suppose.” He knew that ears had turned at the mention of his father. The rhythm of conversations stuttered, the eavesdroppers foaming at the mouth for any tiny morsel of gossip. He kept his mouth shut.

“You know, I was a bit disappointed when you didn't show up at the last festival fifty years ago. I had been hoping to see you prove your worth, but I suppose that's why you came now, right?”

Hn. He had made a point to avoid it, he'd gone to ascertain something instead. “I was not prepared then.”

“I suppose so,” Gajou averted his eyes, his voice going soft. “He looked for you, you know.”

Involuntarily, his jaw clenched. Him? Or his brother? The question caught on his tongue as he forced himself to drink. The oni was still sitting there, and he wouldn't get into technicalities and he was beginning to rethink his initial opinion of his uncle. If that's what Gajou wanted to believe then fine. It didn't make a difference so Sesshoumaru stayed silent.

“Your mother said you've changed quite a bit.”

He bristled. “I've only seen her the once in the last fifty years, of course she would say so.”

“What a terrible son, not visiting your own lady mother!”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gajou's fanged grin. Sesshoumaru continued swirling his drink, absentmindedly watching the show. The tanuki had transformed into an oni, and was chasing the kitsune-turned-human-monk around the floor as he screamed and prayed to all the gods to save him from the beast, only to trip over something nonexistent. With a flourish, the monk waxed poetic about his expanding doom, lamenting his life's transgressions. And was subsequently devoured in a flurry of makeshift guts and viscera. Distasteful, frankly.

The woman, Momiji, began to lightly clap when the two performers sank into deep bows along the floor. They muttered humble thanks before they stood and slipped off into the shadows just beyond the tatami’s edge.

“My lords, I truly hope you enjoy our next act. They are my most prized performers.” 

There was a shuffling sound, the pitter patter of something small making their way across the floor. Sesshoumaru turned his head, and saw the odd trio of a shamisen, koto, and a biwa moving towards the center of the small crowd. He had never seen the enchanted instruments before, and it was strange watching the wood and strings move as if they were living and breathing. The koto's many strings had become like a wild nest of hair, and he swore he could see a mouth with fangs protruding from the side. The biwa and shamisen were much less beastly, taking on more human like characteristics, even so far as to be draped in cloth as if to hide their nakedness. 

“Your prized act are spirited instruments?”

Gajou made a move as if to swat his arm in reprimand but Momiji only smiled.

Once the band had settled into place two more figures emerged from the shadows to his left. The first, a woman with skin so dark it was nearly black, with a braid of inky hair that fell along her shoulder and down past her hips. Her owlish eyes a deep, deep blue that shimmered in the torchlight, and between them a beaked nose. Multicolored feathers draped over her shoulders, and her taloned feet clicked as she slowly made her way across the floor, gingerly holding a wooden flute before her. 

Gajou’s posture straightened as the attention was drawn to her, and even Sesshoumaru had to concede that the woman was beautiful. Yet something tickled his skin, her aura not one he could place.

Behind her, a woman followed. Cloaked in a long, icy blue kimono, a hanten draped like a cloak from the top of her head, the lapels hanging down to shield her face, despite the fact that she wore a mask. The face of a young maiden, pale with gold paint lining her eyes; she kept her head towards the floor, and the shadows that fell across the mask made it seem as though she was weeping.

Sesshoumaru sniffed again, had the rain increased? No, the drizzle continued as before.

The couple stopped in the center of the room and sank into deep bows. They said nothing, and the birdwoman was the first to stand. She took a step back, away from the cloaked woman and placed the flute to her lips.

The shamisen began to pluck it's own strings, followed by the koto and the biwa, and then the woman's flute. The cloaked woman began to rise to her feet, slowly, as if pulled by a string between her shoulder blades, her face still turned towards the floor. Slowly, she raised an arm, then the other, she spun on her heel and bent her knees. The sound of the flute was mesmerizing, a sense of calm washed over him and left him staring at the dancing woman. Her smooth and fluid movements, like water― 

A fan flicked out from inside her sleeve.

No. 

Like the wind.

With a deep breath he sat up straight, as calmly as he could. He’d been foolish, unable to recognize the scent for what it was. The memory of it so deeply buried in his subconscious, an attempt at forgetting it so well done he hadn’t realized it until she was staring him in the face

Nearly four years, and to be here, now? He had a hard time believing it was coincidence.

He glanced at his uncle from the corner of his eye. Gajou sat like a man entranced, positively enamored, his cheek resting on his palm. Sesshoumaru slid his gaze away back to her, as she twisted and turned with the increasing tempo, the fan flicking open and closed as she moved her arms. 

He slowly sat back and took a sip of sake. He supposed he could let himself enjoy her dance.

What felt like hours later she finally slowed to a stop, sinking to her knees into a bow, her forehead nearly touching the floor. Something tightened in his chest. How unlike her.

There was some clapping, but as he looked around he noticed that the rest of the audience appeared to be in a daze, their eyes half clouded and drowsy, just resurfacing from the trance the birdwoman’s flute had put them in.

His head snapped back to the floor when she stood, her movements a little less fluid than before. She jumped to her feet abruptly and adjusted the cloak around her face, then with quick feet she shuffled as quietly as possible towards the exit, her long robes dragging behind her. His eyes followed her, and he swore she turned to look at him just before scurrying off into the shadows.

Running? It seemed so, and the thought of it nearly had the predator in him buzzing in excitement. But he took three deep breaths before following. 

Jaken may or may not have squawked something at him, and was promptly answered with a foot to the face.

It was easy enough to follow her scent now that he was searching for it. He slipped off into the hallways that branched from the main hall, picking up her scent and its trail with the same austerity he’d had when hunting Naraku. The irony of course, wasn’t lost on him, especially with what lay at the end of the trail.

Up a few flights of stairs, down another hallway, then out onto the veranda, yet he still hadn’t caught sight of her. The scent was growing stronger, but when he rounded a corner into a garden and found a dead end, he wondered if it was all some elaborate prank and swore he’d have whoever had orchestrated it dead before the sun rose.

But then, the wind shifted, and― 

“Looking for me, m’lord?”

He’d forgotten what her voice sounded like, and the words had his hackles rising for a reason he didn’t care to name. He rounded on her, spinning on his heel just in time to see her standing in front of the door way, still wearing the mask and her fan held up haughtily over the lower half of her face. 

As quick as he’d turned, it didn’t take much to take the three steps that separated them and snatch her fan to snap it closed. Her hand right right along with it, loosely hanging from the tassel, dangling from his grip as he loomed over her. If the action shocked her, the mask hid any indication of it. He wanted to smash the damn thing.

“ _ Kagura _ .”

Slowly, but without hesitation, she reached up to unbuckle the clasps at her temples and slide the mask halfway down her face. Glowing eyes appraised him and he didn’t need to see her lips to recognize the smirk that would be there.

“Yo, Sesshoumaru. Long time no see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Essentially my characterization for Sess is going to be the big bad who turned good i guess and is now real mad about it, big grump just wants to be scary and kill people like he used to. He’s like a teenager at home for the holidays who just wants to play video games in his room. On the other hand Kagura is home from her study abroad and got a gig as a dj at his family reunion.
> 
> Let me know what you all think of it so far.


	2. Coriolis

She'd known.

From the moment the name Mount Inugatake had left Momiji's mouth, she'd known.

"Oh, don't make such a sour face,” she scoffed, exhaling steam and giving her arm a gentle tug. He hadn’t touched her, only the fan, and while she knew she should take offense to it, the way her wrist dangled from the tassle a little uncomfortably, for some reason her thoughts were still stuck on the gold of his eyes. Her memory hadn’t done it justice.

“What are you doing here?”

His voice trembled with a growl, reverberating in the air between them and slipping past his fangs like smoke. She’d forgotten how downright rude he could be. 

Three years and she’d left things well enough alone, too many of her own problems to deal with. Learning how to be, how to live, how to make her own way in the world. She had known that coming here would more than likely lead to a similar conversation but she hadn’t expected him to look so upset about it.

She dropped the mask, let it hang around her neck and shielded her mouth with her hand, feigning arrogance. “Were you not paying attention to the performance? In my opinion, you looked  _ very  _ focused.”

His glare narrowed.

“My, my, don't get angry with me.” 

“ _ Kagura.” _

She couldn't help but roll her eyes as she gave her arm another tug, this time a little harder than before. His grip tightened.

“Let go.” Maybe she’d given him a bit too much credit, any harder and he’d snap the wood.

“Answer the question.”

Insufferable dog! For nearly the entire month it had taken them to arrive she’d imagined what a reunion would look like, traitorous thoughts envisioning entirely different scenarios, a juvenile heart influenced by the stories the oni liked to tell. All those  _ maybes  _ and  _ ifs,  _ hundreds of rabbit holes she fell into when she was bored _. _

But if he wanted to be difficult, fine, she just didn’t know why she felt so surprised. Her memories had conveniently neglected to remind her of the last thing he’d said to her: 

_ “Do whatever you please, I don't care. It’s none of my concern.” _

Well, she could do just that.

Her hand shot up to close around her fan, their fingers brushing for the briefest moment, just enough time for her to force air between the wood and his digits and forcibly pry them off. Kagura stepped back out of arm’s reach once she’d snatched it from him. The wind hadn’t been strong enough to injure him, but his hand hung in the air for a second as he seemed to process what she’d done. Surprise and anger flashed across his face briefly, but after a moment it settled to passive irritation and he let his arm fall back to his side.

“I told you to let go,” she huffed, once it looked like he was calm enough. His feet were rooted firmly to the floor, and it didn’t look like he’d try to grab her again, but she knew the family temper was not a thing to underestimate. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t test him again, though. “Now stop acting like I came here for  _ you.”  _

_ That  _ seemed to make a difference. Whatever tension he’d been holding in his shoulders dropped and the crease between his brows smoothed. None of it could be called dramatic, but the change was just perceptible enough for her to notice; especially when he exhaled and his breathing slowed, the air around him a little less charged than before.

Surprised. Had he thought that? Was he disappointed? She didn’t know if she should be offended. She’d done just fine without him for three years, what would be the point to go sniffing around now? Pompous ass. 

Kagura turned her back on him, adjusting her robes and removing the mask from around her neck. She had half a mind to leave him there in the cold, to go back and tell Momiji she’d be heading south for the winter, for fairer weather and far fairer company. Come to think of it, the oni would just nag her, she could just leave right now if…

A look over her shoulder halted her thoughts. The rain had stopped, but he might as well have been frozen to the floor, how still he was; looking far less prickly without his armor and his head cocked just slightly to the side, his eyes unfocused but fixed on her face. It wasn’t anger clouding his vision anymore, but something more akin to―dare she think it― _ concern;  _ his lips just a little parted and his brows just a little turned up. She blinked at him.

“What?”

He straightened as if he hadn’t expected her to speak, his posture went rigid and he set his jaw, but that soft look in his eye didn’t falter.

“Is this what you've made of your freedom?” 

Her heart might have stuttered and her breath might have caught in her throat, she had to audibly swallow to get her voice back. He’d never exactly been predictable before, but she certainly hadn’t expected a question like that.

“I’m flattered, Sesshoumaru,” she said, regaining her composure, his name rolling off her tongue, “and I thought you were too self-absorbed to worry about anyone but yourself. But here you are asking about poor little me. I’m having quite the time of my life, thank you very much.”

“...Acting like some common derelict.”

A laugh burst out of her throat before she could stop it, a wide grin splitting her face. She would ignore the insult since he hadn’t denied being worried. “Oh? You think I’m too good for this type of life?” She flicked her fan in front of her face. “Should I be doing something else? Wandering the woods and wastes in search of power?” No need for that. “Defeating wealthy warlords and taking their riches for myself?” Never had an interest. She snapped her fan shut and threw a hand over her forehead, mocking a swoon. “Or now that I’m back and my current circumstances are so  _ abhorrent _ to you, should I be…”

Her voice faded a second too late, faltering on what she’d meant to say but knew better than to speak out loud:

_ “...Should I be asking you to save me?” _

He raised a brow. With a scoff she crossed her arms and turned away from him. “What the fuck does it matter anyway? It doesn't concern you."

"You vanished for four years only to turn up now," he said carefully, a hint of anger edging into his voice. "It does  _ concern  _ me, Kagura."

"Why?" She hissed the words a little more forcefully than she'd intended. "You're the one who told me to do what I wanted in the first place, why get upset about it now?" He opened his mouth again but she held up a hand to silence him, ignoring the way his expression sharpened dangerously. "And I know you mean why I'm  _ here,  _ and for your information I was  _ invited,  _ so unless you're going to toss me out then I don't see the point of getting upset about it."

His nostrils flared but he didn't say anything, just stared at her for what felt like forever until she lost her patience.

" _ So?" _

Sesshoumaru raised a brow. Kagura scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"Are you going to tell me to get lost or what?"

He tilted his head, and then very softly, as if he was fighting the word before he'd even spoken it, he said: "No."

"Alright then." She nodded once. "Glad that's settled."

Unsure if that was the end of it, and unsure if she should leave or wait for him to open his fool mouth again, she picked a spot at the other end of the garden, a bush covered in snow and ice and decided it was a good enough place to hold her gaze.

There wasn't much she had to say to him, and his attitude had put her in a foul mood, so she could wait for him to smooth it over or leave. 

"Why did you run?"

"Hn?" If he meant earlier, she hadn't been running, and told him so. "Not until you started following me, anyway. Besides, I figured that you'd wanna' have this little ‘reunion’ in private."

From the corner of her eye she saw him nod, but he was still staring at the side of her face, so intensely her scalp began to itch. She was ready to snap at him, but he interrupted her before she'd started.

"I'm not close with my family."

"Really? I hadn't noticed."

It was almost like a game, seeing how quickly she could irritate him, and how long it took him to calm. 

"Keep things to yourself."

His version of "things" probably being the human girl and the hanyou, she wondered if she should ask about them, but didn’t care all that much. She laughed instead. "I'm not stupid, Sesshoumaru, and you're not the only one with secrets to keep." 

“Kagura―”

“― _ Sesshoumaru-sama _ !” 

The imp’s shrill voice preceded any indication of his presence, a fact which was already making the place between her brows throb. His shrieking was definitely a memory she’d repressed.

He called for his master again, closer, and she gave the dog a frustrated look which he might have returned as he stepped past her, his eyes dull and his expression impassive bordering on murderous. For as much time as he spent with the little toad, it was a surprise he still had the energy to be irritated.

“Sesshouma―!” The imp nearly collided with his legs when Sesshoumaru stepped out from around the corner, he had to jump back to avoid it and quickly began to apologize for the slight, sputtering something about looking everywhere for him. Kagura inched a little closer, almost close enough that the fur hanging over his shoulder brushed against her calves. She lamented the cloudy sky, without the moonlight his silver hair lacked it’s usual luster.

“I’m so glad that I finally found you, Sesshoumaru-sama, your uncle was…” 

So distracted staring at his hair, she didn’t notice the toad noticing her.

“ _ Ka-Kagura?!”  _ he sputtered, pointing an accusatory finger at her. Somehow he looked less pitiful without the ridiculous staff he usually carried, a feat she would wonder at later, as he began to screech at her. “What are you doing here?! How did you get inside the castle? There are barriers that should have kept the likes of you―”

“Jaken.” Sesshoumaru sounded exhausted. 

The toad jumped, his eyes flickering back and forth between the two of them in disbelief, but thankfully his beak remained shut. Kagura stifled a laugh as Sesshoumaru began to walk away, hair and fur swaying with his steps. 

“Heading back already?”

He kept walking. Kagura huffed.

“It’s customary to ask me to join you for a drink, you know.”

That made him pause and turn his head over his shoulder, staring at her with one golden eye.

“Do whatever you want.”

Sesshoumaru turned back, the imp chattering at his heels and she supposed that was the closest thing she’d get to an invitation. They didn’t wait for her and she decided that listening to the imp’s voice was the opposite of what she wanted, and she opted to return to the carriage to at least get a little more comfortable. She watched him round a corner and if Sesshoumaru cared at all for her departure he didn’t comment on it, though the imp may have griped something she chose not to hear. 

She breezed down an adjoining hall, using her senses to find her way back without taking to the sky, until she stepped around a corner and found the carriage pressed up against the outer wall, its wheels sunken into the muddy slush and snow. The tanuki perched on the carriage’s step, a pipe stuck between her teeth and her fur fluffed up from the cold. Kagura rolled her eyes as she took the leap from the veranda to the board they’d placed across the dirt, careful not to wet her robes.

"Oi, Okiyo, you're gonna' stink up my clothes doin’ that," she growled, waving her fan to dispel the smoke and pulling the cloud from the carriage like a vacuum. The tanuki waved her off.

"Don't be such a drama queen, I'm sure the dogs'll still think your shit smells sweet," she rasped, her voice thick from years of smoking, she blew a stream of it just shy of Kagura’s face. Another wave of her fan had the cloud drifting off into the sky, but not before a heavy weight collided with her shoulders.

“She already stinks like dog.”

“Watch it or I’ll feed you to them.” She rolled her eyes and ignored the sensation of Urue’s nose nuzzling into her collar, the bat clinging to her robes with claws nearly as long as her own fingers. 

“Lucky for you I don’t have much meat, they’d just as soon spit me out.”

Kagura hissed out a chuckle and pushed aside the curtain, the dull light just bright enough to illuminate the mess on the floor. Props and clothing strewn about in what looked like haste but hadn’t been anything more than the norm. The bat let go of her shoulders when she went to remove her hanten, jumping and latching on to one of the boards that supported the ceiling. Urue watched her, red eyes luminous even in the dark, as Kagura dropped the coat to the floor and hung the mask onto a hook on the wall with several others; one of the few items that garnered any type of special care.

Kagura set about adjusting her robes, ignoring the bat’s stare and nearly jumped out of her skin when the koto furunushi made itself known by rubbing against her leg with several high pitched twangs. Kagura took a steady breath and reached down to idly give the thing a few scratches on what she had always assumed was its head. It let out several more twangs before stepping away and burying itself once under a pile of discarded robes, trilling happily. Kagura carefully stepped over it and pulled back the curtain that covered the front of the carriage to reveal a hammock hanging between the supports.

“Tekari.”

Two fringed antennae popped up over the edge of the hammock, followed by a fuzzy white head. Two deep violet eyes opened and stared at her, blinking away sleep. “Kagura-sama?”

“Here, I'm done with these,” Kagura said, slipping off her furisode and plucking the hanten up off the floor. She haphazardly folded them and tossed them into the girl's lap.

“Did you like them?” she asked, rubbing at her eyes.

“A bit heavy.” Kagura knelt down, rummaging through the mess until she found a kosode of a similar color. She shook it out, not finding too many wrinkles, and slipped it on, tugging it into place where the cloth bunched.

The girl swung her feet over the side of the hammock before jumping down, the fabric still bunched in her arms. She hardly came to Kagura's chest, a thick white ring of fuzz circled her neck, wrists, and ankles; she only wore white silk hakama bunched just above her ankles and a lavender bodice that tied around her neck to accommodate deformed wings. Urue detached herself from the rafters to wrap herself around the girl’s shoulders like a cloak, her own wingspan almost as wide as the girl was tall.

“I'll try something else then,” Tekari muttered, sitting down on the floor, heedless of the bat’s weight as she began to spread the robes out across her lap.

Kagura knelt next to them, peering into the mirror clumsily nailed to the wall. She adjusted her hair, tucking in any strands that had come loose, then plucked the pot of rouge from the sack that hung next to it and then began to fix up her face.

“You aren’t really going to keep entertaining them, are you? You know they’re nothing more than―” 

“ _ Urue. _ ” Kagura turned to glare at her. While she was leagues more tolerable than the fucking crane was, and Kagura had given her a fairly wide range of things that she considered acceptable, but there were times when the bat got a little too ahead of herself. She’d been making comments nonstop ever since they’d started on their way, and it was starting to get downright irritating. 

“Sorry.”

Kagura snapped the pot shut and stood, glowering at her familiar with pursed lips. “I’m not going to  _ ‘entertain’,  _ I was invited for a drink.”

The bat looked less than convinced but ducked her head against Tekari’s neck and she took that for an acceptable display of shame.

“Whatever, I’ll be back later,” she said. The moth muttered a “good luck” as she pushed aside the curtain, squeezing past the tanuki and out into the cold, careful not to wet her socks on the icy board.

“Have fun,” the tanuki called after her with a cough.

“Staying here?” she asked, turning back over her shoulder.

Okiyo shrugged. “Hotaru’s trying to play pranks and the dogs have bad tempers, I don’t wanna’ get involved.”

“I’ll tell him to cut it out, but…” she sniffed, “it ain’t like it’ll do much.” 

“Never does.”

Kagura tossed her a wave over her shoulder as she leapt the distance to the walkway, snuffing out the tanuki’s pipe with a breeze and earning her a frustrated curse as she turned a corner and out of sight.

The sounds of chatter and subtle music got louder the closer she got to the main hall, drifting along on the wind, the sounds sharper because of the cold. The temperature kept away the heat that threatened to bloom across her cheeks, she’d already gotten through the hard part, but the next would be a bit more precarious where it came to Sesshoumaru.

Maybe it was overstepping to come here, given their history and what she knew of him, the image he wanted to portray versus the life he’d fallen into. She’d told him she wasn’t stupid, and that was true, she could keep his little secret, but she wondered if meeting him again here made much of a difference. If she’d encountered him alone, in the forest, would the conversation have gone the same? Would he have ignored her presence altogether, or would he have sought her out?

She’d kept her distance when she’d returned. From him and from the band of humans and the hanyou as much as she could. But she’d known where he was, felt his presence on the breeze just as strongly as she did now, his aura like a flaming beacon, an overpowering presence that demanded attention. Even before, when she’d thought herself nothing more than a tool, desperate for freedom and without the ability to read the wind, she’d been drawn to it without knowing. 

There’d been comfort there, despite his attitude and his refusals, there’d been solace in that presence. But here, there were no stakes, no enemy, no reason for him to tolerate her as more than a passing acquaintance, or nothing more than―as Urue had nagged her―“entertainment”. And as much as that thought stung, even as irritating as he was, as pompous and insufferable and rude as he was… she had wanted to see him again.

He hadn’t thrown her out, so for now she could take that as consolation.

The light from the main hall was warm, soft torchlight that spilled out into the courtyard below. Kagura paused along the shadows, opened her fan before her face, shielding her mouth as she stepped out into the light. 

Immediately, golden eyes were on her.

Not all of them ones she cared for, but still it was something watching noses twitch at her presence. She spotted Sesshoumaru quickly enough, face as stone cold as ever and staring at her, his uncle on his left with Momiji flanking him. Achara sat in front of them, they turned when they felt Kagura’s presence, and Kagura had to stifle a laugh at the look on their face, one that screamed: “help me.”

She paused there a moment, and it wasn’t until she spotted green eyes that she moved.

The kitsune smiled at her, and the oni beside him gave her a gruff nod, the two men flanked around a dog woman and her much larger, beastly silver companion. Whatever they’d been discussing, the woman looked less than amused.

“Stop playing tricks,” Kagura hissed, whacking her fan lightly against the crown of Hotaru’s head and letting the wind carry her voice so only he could hear.

He grinned up at her, a fang poking over his lip as he rubbed the top of his head. “Can’t help what’s in my nature.” 

_ “Kagura.”  _

The snap of Momiji’s fingers brought them both to attention, Kagura looked up, readying a grimace until she spotted Sesshoumaru’s face: seconds away from a snarl and glaring murder at… 

Huh. Interesting. Something she’d have to look into later.

Instead she plastered a smile on her face and stepped up to their little circle as the oni introduced her to the dogs. 

“What a pleasure to finally see your face,” Gajou said, sporting a wide grin.

“The pleasure is all mine, m’lord.” She bowed slightly and couldn’t contain her smirk when she gestured to the only empty space in the little circle. “May I?”

Sesshoumaru smoothed his face and watched her impassively from beneath his lashes. Kagura kept her calm, her mouth hidden behind her fan until he finally closed his eyes and gave the briefest nod before quickly looking away.

She gave him a wide smile―one he did not return―and took her place beside him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started working on this story back in the fall of 2018, so even a lot of this is out of date considering i started writing Born Free in earnest in like… April. This will be much slower paced than BF was, and with much lower stakes, but updates should be pretty regular for the first ten chapters or so even tho some do need almost total rewrites, so pls bear with me.


	3. Convection

Poison flowed beneath his claws, kept resolutely in check despite how prettily he knew the oni’s neck with dissolve. 

On edge, he’d resumed his place beside his uncle in the main hall, he hadn’t allowed himself to relax since Kagura had gone off to wherever she’d gone. Evidently, to change her clothes, though her robes were still a blinding blue that contrasted sharply with her eyes. Eyes that were surprisingly playful, despite the way the oni had snapped at her like she was some common bitch; she’d already worn his patience thin, so it wasn’t hard for the beginnings of a snarl to pull at his lip.

“The pleasure is all mine, m’lord. May I?”

He schooled his face despite the way his hackles rose at the deferential term, the way it nearly angered him as much as the oni’s attitude. He said nothing as she sat beside him and turned his gaze away to the middle of the room, only giving her the briefest nod to indicate he’d heard her and wouldn’t snap if she sat beside him.

She’d accused him of being angry, which wasn’t far from the truth, though he felt more frustration than rage. He could handle surprises well enough, but this was less a surprise than a shock, a wrench in his plans of going through the festival without incident. While Kagura was not stupid (she  _ had  _ said as much) _ ,  _ there was still an air of unpredictability there. Not something he needed to fear, but something he could not control. 

For the short time they’d been acquainted, all those years ago, she’d surprised him more than once. The first when she’d come to him because of his strength and then screamed in his face, the second when she’d still offered him aid despite his multiple refusals, and then the third…

A memory he didn’t like to recall. 

His eyes drifted left, and somehow it was still there, in the back of his mind, branded there as if it had just been yesterday. She caught his stare and her smile grew wider, all red painted lips and white teeth and happier than he’d ever thought he’d see her.

Not that it was something he’d worried over, her happiness―or lack thereof―was of no consequence to him.

But still, it was an odd thought. The Kagura that he’d known before, when she’d been nothing more than a tool in a malicious game, full of spite and rage that at times had been directed at him. And there she was, sitting beside him so calmly, a smile on her lips and laughter in her lungs. He’d never heard her laugh before, and decided that he didn’t find the sound altogether unpleasant.

Perhaps he wasn’t altogether upset at her arrival either, less angry or frustrated, and simply unnerved…

The companions she’d surrounded herself with didn’t concern him, more an annoyance than anything. The oni had already worked his last nerve, too sly for his liking, and if not for his uncle’s obvious interest he would have already told her exactly what he thought of her and her little entourage. Then there was the kitsune seated with one of his cousins, Kagura had been playful with him, and a small thought had him wondering if there was more there than simple camaraderie. And then the last, the bird. A karyoubinga, they’d explained. An angel amongst demons, a fact that they’d found no lack of irony in and had gotten them several mixed stares; neither woman nor man, something his uncle had been sorely chagrined to hear. It had gotten him a small chorus of mocking laughter, though the oni looked positively chuffed.

Sesshoumaru tuned the conversation out, choosing not to listen to the stories of their escapades across the country and the mainland. It had been several years, and she had made the best of her freedom, it seemed. Not as if it mattered.

He kept his thoughts to himself, his gaze level in the center of the room and ignored when red eyes swept over him. He’d made his appearance, he could tolerate the nightly nonsense for another hour or so before it would be acceptable to disappear. He only glanced up when there was a sudden movement, the oni jumping to her feet with a ridiculous flourish. 

"You know, gentlemen, why don't I show you a treat?" 

Kagura groaned softly, and when he turned he caught the shared glance with the bird beside her, a look of disdain clear on both their faces as the oni twirled the sleeves of her furisode and snapped at the men of her troupe. They moved to action, sliding away from the woman they’d been conversing with going to the center of the floor with their leader. She whispered something to them, and within seconds the kitsune had conjured a biwa and a koto for the two of them.

It was something of a spectacle, watching her move in a semblance of a dance. Sesshoumaru focused on the music, an easier feat than ignoring the woman’s movements. Not even Kagura seemed enthralled by her dancing, looking completely and utterly bored to death. At least they had something in common in that.

There was muted clapping when she finished, her companions slid off back to the side, the instruments vanished in a puff of smoke as Momiji wandered back to them, a smile on her tusked face.

“Momiji, I’ve forgotten how wonderful it is to see you dance,” Gajou crooned when she sat down beside him and generously refilled his glass, tittering proudly and placing her palm to her cheek as she blushed prettily under the compliment.

“Of course, you know my dancing skills are what makes our troupe so high in demand,” she said with a laugh. It grated Sesshoumaru’s ears.

“I thought Kagura was your most prized dancer.”

Her head nearly swiveled off her neck, with the way the oni snapped up to look at him incredulously. Kagura choked and stifled a laugh behind her fan.

“Well, yes, of course,” she floundered, his uncle was quick to interject.

“Oh, don’t take it personally, Momiji, Sesshoumaru never knows when to hold his tongue,” he said with a laugh, “and besides, he was so enamored with Kagura’s dancing, how could he?”

Once (or twice, he hadn’t kept count), he had very nearly killed his half-brother. He hadn’t succeeded at fratricide, and he didn’t know the word for uncle-killing, but he wondered if he should try his hand at it. 

“Oh, is that so?” Kagura crooned, grinning like a cheshire at him.

“Of course. Your dance had my nephew looking more attentive than he has all evening.” 

Kagura’s eyes glittered in the light, positively glowing with mischief as she slowly turned to him and held her fan over her mouth.

“Did my performance stir even your stone heart, m’lord?”

He scowled. At the implication and the deference. She’d flattered him before, but had always spoken as if they were equals. He didn’t like whatever persona she was trying to play. He chose his next words carefully, as a denial or an insult would be the same as an admission.

“...It was adequate.” 

“Hn, I suppose that’s the best compliment I can expect from someone like you.”

“I think he means it was the best he’s seen in a long while,” Gajou guffawed, raising a brow and hiding his grin behind his cup, “my nephew is not one for many words, at least not anymore.”

“Oh, not to worry, I’ve gathered that much on my own.” Her chuckles were irritating even hidden behind her fan. He felt her eyes swipe over him several times rapidly, but wouldn’t deign to indulge it.

“One has less use for words when they’re capable of speaking through other means,” he said smoothly, flexing his fingers against his thigh. His uncle was moderately tolerable compared to the rest of the family, but if he continued his incessant prodding that might need to change. Gajou’s eyes followed the movement of his hand and let his grin widen, flashing his teeth.

“Careful, Sesshoumaru, I may be old, but even a blind dog still has fangs.” 

“Now, now, m’lords, no need to fight over our account.” Kagura’s voice rang in his ears, surrounding him. Irritating. The last straw.

He put his cup down with a little more force than he’d intended, which earned him a surprised look from the party. 

“I’ll be retiring.” He didn’t owe Kagura or her companions any explanation, but Gajou would question him later if he left without a word. And judging by Kagura’s expression, she would have something to say to him, but wisely watched him go in silence. Jaken followed after him briefly, but stopped once Sesshoumaru very firmly sent him back to check after his uncle and anyone else who might need his assistance.

He’d arrived far too early. Nearly a century of avoiding his clan and he was already tired of them after less than a full day. His frustration was only soothed by Kagura’s appearance, because if he’d come any later he would have been more upset to find her already in attendance. Walking in with her already laughing and drinking with his uncle and cousins would have been far more maddening than confronting her while she still hid behind a mask.

Too many things coming back for him at once. As aloof as he kept himself, his preferred method of dealing with things was simply to ignore them.

And he would do just that.

He made his way up the stairs that crisscrossed the castle until he came to a veranda on one of the upper floors. The clouds had moved on hours ago, taking the icy rain with them; the sky above clear, stars twinkling amid a brightening night sky. He was high enough in the castle that he could see down the valley below, barren for the season, nothing but mountains of grey and white. The sun had begun to rise, it’s meager light enough to illuminate the sea beyond the trees.

The sound of soft footsteps reached him before her scent.

“I see you’ve decided to follow me.”

Kagura scoffed. “Are you really that upset about it?”

He looked back to glare at her, his lip curling. “Why come here, Kagura?”

“Not sure if you mean here as in on this veranda next to you or here as in...”

His gaze hardened, which only earned him a smirk from her. 

“Stop looking so upset,” she said, teasing, “I would think that you’d have lost that attitude years ago. You got everything you wanted, didn’t you? You’re so cranky.”

“Watch your words, Kagura,” he said, putting as much bite into his words as he could. “Don’t think that our history makes you a friend.”

She leaned back, blinking at him. Behind them, the sun must have breached the horizon, the sky blooming with light just as a smile erupted on her face, followed by laughter and her waving a hand in his direction as her shoulders shook.

"Oh, please," she chuckled, "Save your snarling for someone who deserves it. We may not've known each other well, but I at least know better to be threatened by you."

“I have half a mind to change that.”

“Pff,” she rolled her eyes, “sure, Sesshoumaru.”

She was correct in one thing, she’d never had reason to find him a threat, he still felt the obligation to voice it, but knew there was no point. The last star twinkled above the horizon, the sky swathed in lavender above a tumultuous, freezing sea.

“The whole world and you decide to come back here.”

“I told you, I was invited.”

“Invitations mean little if you’re ordered where to go.”

She looked up at him, incredulous. “What are you talking about? I have my freedom.”

“Yet you allow your mistress to order you around.”

“My  _ mistress?”  _ she scoffed. “If you mean Momiji, she ain’t my  _ anything.” _

“You follow her.”

“I accompany her, it’s different.”

It would only result in a fight if he said what other things "accompany" could stand for. 

"How long do you intend to remain here?"

She rolled her eyes and tapped her fan against her chin, an annoying habit, but he found it preferable to when she hid her face behind it.

"Ready to be rid of me?" She asked and raised a brow. "I'll be here as long as you, I suppose. Though it doesn't look like that's much of a consolation. My apologies for making you suffer my company."

Her gaze tickled his face, and he knew there was the beginnings of a scowl there, but that was more because of the realization that he'd arrived weeks too early than the fact that she'd be flitting around him the whole time. 

"It's not so bad, is it?" She asked, fanning herself. "We were never enemies, afterall."

No, they hadn't been. Begrudgingly, he could admit to that much. He took a breath, inhaling that scent that despite the stinging cold air was so much like a summer rain. He watched the horizon, the sea hardly visible beyond the naked forest, the fading blue of night as it faded to pinks and purples, the warmth of the rising sun behind them little consolation for the icy chill. When he glanced back he was met with eyes as vibrant as fresh blood and a smile as sharp as a flame.

She'd been smiling a lot tonight, and he found that it wasn't something he minded.

“Did you ever find an answer?” The question escaped his lips before he had a chance to stop it.

"Hn?"

He nearly bit his tongue, but Sesshoumaru had never been one to back down. "For your revival."

"Ah, still curious even after all these years? Careful, I'll start to think you've been pining after me." She laughed when he narrowed his eyes at her, her smile turned sly. “It's a long story, maybe a tale for another night, if you'd like to hear it.”

He nodded slightly, an agreement, or his way of wishing her a good night, or a good morning. Human civilities that didn't matter much for those who rarely slept. He turned and began to walk away.

“Sesshoumaru?”

He paused. 

“I don't expect you to return the sentiment, but it is good to see you again.”

He glanced at her over his shoulder. In the light of the rising sun, her eyes were a molten crimson; her usual inky black hair haloed and glowing in the soft rose colored reflection of the sky. She wasn't smiling, her lips just slightly parted, the gloss shimmering softly in the dull light…

He turned sharply on his heel, leaving her alone on the veranda with the sound of a snort and soft laughter ringing in his ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gajou: those robes look great! And i bet they would look even better on sesshoumaru’s floor
> 
> Sess: ...are you hitting on kagura for me?
> 
> This chapter was supposed to be apart of the last one but then i added a lot more to chp 2 and decided to split it up and wound up with this sort of floundering thing… oops, i feel like i wrote kagura for so long in BF that now i don’t know how to do sess...


	4. Cirrus

Mostly, their travels followed the same script:

Momiji would know some youkai lord or another (from a tale she would loathe telling, but would lavishly tell nonetheless), they would arrive, dance, drink, and be merry with all the frivolity wealthier youkai loved for indeterminate amounts of time. During Kagura’s time with the troupe, their shortest stay had been three days, the longest had been four months. That one had grown old within the first week.

The homestead of the dogs wasn’t much different. There was drinking and dancing and music, a kaleidoscope of youkai wandering through the doors for the festival, all types of canines and various others she didn’t care to name, if they even deigned to give them. 

As vicious and bourgeoisie as the dog’s reputations were, she was surprised to find the festivities to be less snobbish than she’d anticipated. Though they themselves kept up their airs, their guests were allowed a certain degree of freedom in regards to their conduct. Kagura had already been subjected to several drunken guests breathing in her face, not unusual, just a surprise given what her expectations had been. 

For the most part she was lucky, not by her estimation, but from what Hotaru told her. Given Momiji’s… relationship with Gajou, she was typically invited to spend the nights with them. Which included Sesshoumaru, who constantly looked like he was teetering the edge between mind numbing boredom and genocide. She was surprised it hadn’t started a fight, but the rest of the dogs seemed to defer to him; whether that was because of his own strength or that of his father’s, she didn’t know. 

They hardly spoke, though he hardly spoke to anyone to begin with, so she didn’t feel too badly for it. He tolerated her company well enough and their brief conversations were mostly relegated to something droll; “the sake is good enough”, “the music is not terrible”, and the most common: “my uncle likes to speak of things that don’t concern him.” That one was always precipitated by Gajou making a cryptic comment on something from his youth, which Kagura couldn’t help but listen to with rapt attention. It usually earned her a scowl, but the temptation was just too great.

It wasn’t much, and she couldn’t ask for anything more given their history and his disposition. But she couldn’t help the smug satisfaction that flooded her when she danced. His eyes followed her every movement, as focused as when she'd seen him in battle. Every time she turned, his gaze was on her, his face cold and betraying no emotion, but it was certainly... something.

Three days passed following the same schedule during the night, leaving Kagura with nothing to do during the days, which really meant one thing: exploration.

Someone else might call it snooping, but frankly youkai were too secretive to allow just anyone into the private areas of their home, which meant there were plenty of enchantments and glamours to keep her away from places she wasn’t welcome. Regardless, the estate was immense, and even without encountering any spells there had already been several times, while wandering with Achara, they had found themselves turned around, back where they had started. Her connection with the wind allowed her an easier sense of direction, but without the strong sense of smell the dogs had, it became disorienting for Achara, being constantly turned around. 

What they had managed to find was a particularly quiet garden, hidden away in a corner of one of the upper levels. Just large enough to house a sizable maple tree and a frozen over pond, the rooms surrounding it were thankfully empty, giving it the air of privacy despite the ever growing crowd in the rest of the castle. 

It had snowed the night before, heavy and thick, blanketing the castle in several feet of white powder. The world had been transformed into a diamond crusted wonderland in one night, the air crisp and thin with the chill. Icicles hung from the roof and tree branches, glittering in the dull winter sunlight that filtered through thin clouds amongst a blinding bright blue sky. Kagura found herself mesmerized by the light refracted in an icicle above her head, the sun's rays throwing sharp golden flecks through the ice. 

Thankfully, it wasn't as cold as the first day they’d arrived; and now midmorning, the snow had finally let up to soft flurries, falling gently around the little moth, Tekari, as she kicked snow about the courtyard. A rare occurrence, that they’d managed to get her outside of the carriage or the rooms they’d been given, but the soft snow and warmer weather had been just enough to draw her out of hiding. The girl hated the straw cloak and boots that had been forced onto her, but with her size and weak youki, she was more susceptible to the cold than the rest of them.

Above, Urue hung from one of the rafters, wrapped up in her wings like a cocoon and as close to the wall as she could get. 

“I don't see how you can stand this.” Achara shivered beside her, the poor bird had wrapped themselves in no less than three thick cloaks they'd wrested from Momiji's personal collection. A high offense, if the oni were ever to find out. But, even with the added layers, they still had her wings wrapped tightly around themselves and their legs drawn to their chest.

“It isn’t  _ that  _ bad,” she said, watching the fog from her breath dissipate in the air. While Kagura didn't necessarily  _ mind _ the weather―she could alter the temperature immediately surrounding her if she focused―she had still forced her usually bare feet into a pair of woolen socks and wore her own red hanten loosely over her head. “I think you just enjoy complaining, listening to the sound of your own voice.”

Achara snorted and leaned over just enough so they could rest their head on Kagura's shoulder, trying to sap some of her warmth. “My voice is quite nice, but I wouldn’t waste it on this if I didn’t mean it. It’s damn cold!”

“You can say ‘fuck’, you know, I won’t tell anyone.”

Tekari continued stomping her feet in the snow, drawing patterns across the yard until she finally gave up and threw herself face first into a snow drift below the maple. The girl didn’t move, content to lay there as flurries floated down from the snow trapped on the tree’s boughs.

“Aren’t we supposed to be going to Ryuukyuu after this? That’s south, isn’t it?”

“That’s not for another month, and besides, would you really rather be traveling in this weather?” Kagura scoffed, “at least here we’ve got a roof over our heads and walls to keep out the chill. You’re better off staying here til spring.”

“Yes, but the journey might just be worth the reward,” they moaned, teeth chattering for emphasis. “Have you ever been?”

“ _ I  _ haven’t.”

“She has,” the bat piped up, voice muffled by her own wings.

“Go to sleep, Urue.”

Achara nodded against her shoulder with a giggle, an almost imperceptible “that’s right” escaped her lips. Kagura turned her attention back to the little moth, Tekari’s still form sprawled out facedown on the ground beneath the maple’s snow covered branches. A thought crossed her mind, and a smirk pulled at her lips. She raise her hand, and with a flick of her wrist the snow came tumbling down, straight onto the girl’s head.

There was a pause, Achara sucked in a breath and stifled a chuckle behind their hand, before Tekari erupted, spluttering and screeching, from the deluge. She sat up, snow frozen on her antennae and a pout evident on her face and she flipped onto her back. “ _ Kagura-sama _ !”

Kagura chuckled, until the girl jumped to her feet, packing snow between her tiny hands. Achara was quick to slide back across the engawa, away from their friend and the impending attack, muttering “oh, no, no, no,” as they huddled against the wall. Kagura on the other hand, slid off the deck, immediately feeling the shock of snow melt and the water seep into her socks. She dodged the snowball Tekari whipped at her head, Kagura flicked open her fan, sending a gust towards her feet and creating a wave of snow crashing across the courtyard.

Shrieking laughter filled the yard as they faced off, a tornado of snow spinning wildly, nearly covering Achara’s shivering form several times as they screamed and screeched at them to stop. Their screaming only intensified when Kagura packed snow into her hands and whipped it just above the bird's head, it splattered against the plaster with a thud.

“I am sworn to passivity but I may forego it just this once if you don’t  _ stop! _ ”

The two ignored them, continuing their mock battle with giggles and yelps. Kagura felt the wind shift, but ignored it, too busy creating a blizzard of her own to care for the audience that had gathered. She’d been in the castle long enough to learn to pay it no mind.

And she wouldn’t have, if not for the sudden rageful hiss coming from one very angry bat.

“ _ Urue!” _

For his part, Sesshoumaru seemed to take it quite well.  _ Well _ of course being relative, as he looked as if he was seconds from ripping the bat from her perch on the rafters. Or maybe he’d forego decorum and simply bite her head off her shoulders. She was certainly close enough, only inches from his murderously furious face.

“ _ Oi!” _

A snap of her fan worked well enough, her familiar flinched and immediately dropped to the floor with her head down.

“I told you to go to sleep,” Kagura hissed as she leapt onto the veranda, emphasizing her words with heavy steps. “ _ Go.” _

Sesshoumaru turned his eyes to her once Urue scurried off. Kagura stepped between them for good measure, shielding her familiar as she climbed back to her place in the rafters, she wrapped herself in her wings, but left just enough space to keep one eye on him.

“She doesn’t like dogs,” Kagura offered with a shrug.

“Then you should keep her elsewhere,” he said, sourly. 

Kagura had to bite her lip at his expression, his lip twitching with the beginnings of a snarl and ice in his eyes. He was seemingly unaffected by the cold, his arms hung loosely at his sides, and he wore nothing more than the two layers of his kosode, hakama, and socks, but his fur seemed a little fluffier than usual, so maybe it was just an act.

“So… did you want to join?” Kagura finally asked with a chuckle, she raised her fan and sent a small tornado of flurries spinning in the ground near his feet. He glanced at it and then back at her.

“You were making a racket.”

Daylight did little to alleviate his attitude, it seemed. She snorted. “I would say that whatever noise we were making was far better than anything  _ else  _ going on at this time of the day. Don’t you think?”

His lips thinned and she had to bite back a laugh. When had he gotten so easy to goad? That girl had certainly done a wonder for his temper.

“Come on, we were just havin’ some fun. It gets too stuffy staying cooped up inside all day.” She flicked her fan in front of her lips and focused her aura, just enough to bring in a gust of warm air. “You’re more suited to the outdoors, too, I think.”

“Why didn't you do that sooner?” Achara groaned behind her, still shivering on the floor.

Sesshoumaru's eyelids lowered just enough to be noticeable. Ah, so it had been just an act. Kagura felt a small satisfaction in that. The ice and snow seemed to suit him, though, his silver hair reflecting the light in the same way, and his golden eyes warm despite the chill. He blinked slowly, appreciating the change in temperature before meeting her amused eyes again.

“They’ll have you heating the whole castle if you continue to show off.”

Kagura’s eyebrows raised nearly to her hairline. Had that been a joke?

“Sorry, my heating services are not for hire,” she said, grinning, “ _ but _ , if you’d like some company during the banquet tonight…”

Whatever good spirit he’d had suddenly left him, his eyes went cold again. She wanted to roll her eyes. 

“Look as grumpy as you want,” she said with a shake of her head, “you’ll still allow it.”

He opened his mouth, but whatever he’d meant to say was interrupted by a piercing howl. It echoed against the valley, nearly setting the whole castle trembling. 

Kagura flinched.

“What the fuck was that?”

“My mother.” 

_ …Shit. _

If he noticed the shock that flashed across her face, he didn’t question it. Kagura schooled her expression and nodded solemnly. Nothing she hadn’t already accounted for, it would just mean a slight change of schedule.

Sesshoumaru had already turned on his heel when she looked back up, hardly a nod or wave or word of parting as he turned a corner.

Kagura snorted and shook her head, and when she turned around, she was met with Achara’s smug face smirking up at her.

“What?”

“Urue’s going to put you under a curfew, lock you up in a tower in heaven,” they cooed, grinning.

Kagura glanced at the bat, who flinched away from her gaze. “ _ Urue  _ should fucking know better than to go starting fights.”

“Why don’t you like the dogs, again?” Achara asked, turned to look up at the cocoon of a bat.

“They’re hellspawn, no better than the mindless hellhounds they’re descended from,” came the muffled reply.

“Ah, a tragic romance then?” 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Kagura raised a brow.

“You and sir dog.”

“Ha!  _ No _ .”

“You’re the one flirting.”

Kagura shook her head incredulously and scoffed. “So? It ain’t like it means anything. Trust me, he ain’t the type.”

“I guess we’ll see, won’t we?” they said, grinning.

Kagura rolled her eyes and dropped to a seat beside them with a thud. Tekari was back to laying face down on the ground.

“Whatever.”

* * *

His mother always had a flare for the dramatic, her incessant howling only stopped when he emerged onto the deck above the entry yard.

She stood, her maw impassive as her retinue followed behind, dogs smaller than she and darker of color but no less menacing as they struggled to fit their bodies through the rhododendron gate. She wouldn't have bothered with it, more than likely she had just flung herself through the barrier, while the rest of her party crawled. Her paws nearly threatened to crack the stones, massive paw prints melted into the snow behind her led to the wall. 

Sesshoumaru threw himself into the air from the second floor and transformed. The stones shuddered under his weight as he came to stand shoulder to shoulder with his uncle, who’d arrived just minutes before him.

The dogs behind her approached him, whining and yipping before and falling onto their backs, baring their bellies in submission. Sesshoumaru was still, his gaze locked with his mother's. For several moments she stared at him, her head slightly tilted and one ear raised. 

Finally, his mother let out a sharp breath through her snout and took a step forward until she was just close enough to rub her head against his jaw, her tail wagged slightly and her chest rumbled in a contented growl. He returned the gesture, knowing the pride and joy she meant to convey.

It only lasted a moment, and then with a grumble and a nudge she stepped to perform the greeting again with his uncle. It lasted a minute less, they separated, and the trio turned back towards the castle. The rest began to pick themselves up off the ground, waiting to follow.

The floorboards cracked painfully underneath their paws as they walked along the corridor, the space hardly wide enough to allow them to walk side by side, neither of them yet willing to follow the others, his mother especially. She took the center, shoulder brushing tight against his own, head held high and playing the proud matriarch she was.

Onlookers had gathered along the balcony that ran beside the walkway. His cousins and other members of the clan waited further on up ahead, but the guests watched on from the wings, bowing, some low to the floor, others merely bent at the waist to show their respect. Up ahead, though…

Kagura watched on from the balcony to his right, tucked against a pillar with her cloak pulled over her head and fan shielding her face so the only visible part of her was her eyes. Still, he could recognize her amusement.

She met his eyes, so different from his usual gold, his sclera a darker, angrier crimson than her own irises, pupils framed in bright blue locked onto her. She had seen the beginnings of his transformation before, when he'd been frothing at the mouth at Naraku, but never the real thing. And if she had to say…

“Impressive.” 

He heard her barely whispered comment and cocked his head, one ear raised as he came closer. The balcony was at just the right height― 

The puff of hot air that shot out his snout did not knock her off her feet, but it did enough to stun her. The cloak was blown off her head and she scrambled to pull it back on, but she’d dropped her hand just long enough for him to catch her mouth fall open in shock, eyes bugged out of her head.

“Watch it, dog breath!” The wind carried her voice to his ear, the comment hissed through her teeth. He glanced back at her, her nose pinched closed between her fingers and waving her fan in front of her face. 

If his current anatomy allowed him to laugh, he would have.

Kagura kept her eyes on him as he fully passed her until she was just staring at his back. She had to bite her lip to suppress an errant laugh, her eyes glued on his behind.  _ Hn, maybe  _ that's  _ why Naraku wanted his body so badly… _

Unaware of Kagura's wandering eyes, Sesshoumaru threw himself forward just before he reached the end of the walkway, his body wrapping itself in light as he shrank and transformed back into his humanoid state. His feet touched down on the landing, not necessarily a dais, but once he turned it gave him a good enough view of the walkway and the balconies. Kagura still had her eyes stuck on him, the only thing visible on her face as the rest was hidden by her fan. He met her gaze only once before his mother landed next to him, her humanoid eyes giving him a curious look before he turned away and began to walk up the stairs, his mother in step beside him.

* * *

“It seems even you can be glad to be home, I can’t remember the last time I saw you in such a good mood.”

“I doubt you’ve ever seen me in a good mood, mother.”

“Oh, don’t be so coy, the last time I saw you that little youkai was practically bursting at the seems with joy all on your behalf,” she crooned, “where is the little thing, by the way? I would’ve thought he’d be under your heels.”

He didn’t respond to that, merely kept walking until they arrived at the door. Light peeked out from behind the paper and cast a soft glow into the gloomy corridor. He stopped and turned to face her. His mother’s gaze was fixed on that door, and he wondered if she regretted telling him to bring her up here. But then she looked up at him, making a decision she brushed past, sliding it open and stepping inside.

Sesshoumaru had left the outer doors open before he'd left in the morning, and with the cloudless sky outside, the mountains sparkled in the frame cast by the walls. It was nearly blinding, everything covered in white and glowing in the sunlight. His mother stepped out onto the engawa, her shoulders rising and falling steadily as she looked out. He did not join her, allowing her her moment before she decided to speak.

“I suppose you won't want your mother visiting your rooms after this.”

“What reason would you have to come here?”

“Hn, that is true.” She glanced at him from the corner of her eye with a light chuckle, “You're a man grown aren't you? Though I detect no other scents here but your own.”

He wouldn't deign a response to that.

“Well, let me see it then.”

He gave her a curious look before he fully understood what she meant, her gaze falling beyond his shoulder. With a roll of his eyes he turned and walked towards the back wall, removing Bakusaiga from its shelf. He pulled the sword just enough from it sheath to reveal the blade. His mother stepped up, she didn't reach for it, but her eyes glittered and a proud smile pulled at her lips.

“You knew.”

She scoffed. “I was there when he pulled your first adult fang from your mouth. You don't remember? You cried so pitifully, bawling like a whelp even when we told you it would grow back in less than a day.”

Sesshoumaru slammed the sword back into the scabbard and replaced it on the wall. If he wanted, he could alter the barrier surrounding the room, but decided that literally throwing his mother outside would  _ not _ go over well; he wasn't in the mood for the scrap that would ensue.

“I heard it was quite impressive when you finally gained it,” she said, still eyeing him.

“You  _ heard _ ?” 

“Yes, you could say a little flea told me.” She smiled.

He took one deep breath and focused his eyes on the ceiling. “Where is he?”

There was the sound of her robes rustling, and then― 

“Eh, Sesshoumaru-sama, it's good to see you.”

“Myouga.” The urge to snatch the old flea from his mother’s shoulder and crush him between thumb and index finger was nearly unbearable, but Sesshoumaru reined it in.

“Oh, don't be angry with him, I asked.” She raised her hand and Myouga jumped into her palm rubbing his tiny head sheepishly.

“Your mother was very curious about your conquests, Sesshoumaru-sama, I merely told her of your time battling with Naraku and how you came to surpass your father.”

“If she wished to know, she should have asked me,” he said, leveling a dull glare at her.

“Yes, but Myouga is a much better storyteller, you see, I'm afraid you're not much for description. Got that from your father.” She said it with a smile and a tilt of her head, and Sesshoumaru didn't want to know how much the little flea had embellished or omitted from his tales.

“Well, then there is little for us to discuss,” he growled, going for the door.

“Oh, stop that, I was just leaving anyway,” she said, and slipped past him before he’d even gotten the door halfway open. “I have things to discuss with your uncle, anyway.”

He watched her go, waving a hand over her shoulder, and he was glad to see the flea bouncing along with her steps as he clung to her furs. A good place for him, for if Sesshoumaru were to find him on his own, he would suddenly become well acquainted with the underside of his boot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no one ever talks about how Sesshoumaru's whole ass, dick, and balls out whenever he's in his true form, missed opportunity tbh


	5. Ridge

He shouldn't have bothered to come back. 

His mood was already terrible. Despite any youthful ideas of grandeur he  _ might _ have held, he couldn't imagine that even his younger self would have faulted him for rethinking those aspirations, given what he faced now.

To be fair, he couldn't  _ really  _ be angry with the kit. Logically, he knew that. Or with Myouga. Or even his mother. Or Tamamo no Mai, though the nine-tailed fox's stare was getting on his nerves.

“It's uh… a pleasure, Sesshoumaru… sama…” The voice was muffled against the floor. The kitsune blatantly uncomfortable with the formality, his voice wavering and stuttering on the words. Sesshoumaru would have preferred that he didn't bother, but supposed it was for appearances sake and to please the fox queen more than anything else.

“It  _ is  _ quite good to see you, Sesshoumaru,” his mistress was much chattier. Having greeted his mother already, the two old friends trading sly comments about him as if he wasn't standing right beside them. The corridor they'd met in silent except for their blathering.

“You know, I was quite jealous of you for snagging the Inu no Taishou back then, but I think your son might be just as fine… maybe more.” Her sly smirk was irritating as she appraised him, emerald eyes glinting in mirth, thick red hair falling neatly down her back to the floor. Of her nine tails, at least four flicked back and forth behind her while the others swished against the floor. 

“Oh, he's no good, Mai, a lousy son with no manners!”

“He is still so young, why the last time I saw him he was only a tiny thing, still clinging to your furs…”

Shippou still had his forehead on the floor, unlike the other foxes she'd brought along in her retinue, who had begun to rise and follow after their leader and his mother. 

“Get up.” 

The boy jumped to his feet, blushing and looking sheepish and giving him a nervous smile. He had to crane his neck almost painfully to make eye contact, but he had grown some, the top of his head even with Sesshoumaru’s knee. “So, uh, good to see you, too, right? ...been a few weeks, uh, Rin's―”

“One word.” Shippou snapped his mouth shut. “About her, or about anything you hear or see here when you return, and I'll have your tongue out.”

The smile fell from his face, replaced with a fearful grimace as Shippou swallowed audibly. He gave several vigorous nods of his head before Sesshoumaru turned on his heel; only mildly pleased that the kit still feared him. 

* * *

“But  _ Kagura―” _

“I said no _ ,  _ not tonight.”

“You  _ always  _ do this to me!” Momiji hissed, keeping her voice low to not disturb whoever it was she’d been entertaining in the room behind her. Soft candlelight spilled through the shoji and out into the dark corridor they stood in, silhouetting the oni save for her eyes, which glowed furiously.

“Achara can go,” Kagura offered, throwing a thumb over her shoulder at the bird who clung to the shadows. “Just not me.”

“Fine, but you owe me,” she said, quirking a finger to indicate that she wanted her to follow as Momiji slid the door open again, throwing harsh light into the hall. Kagura leaned over to peak around the door frame.

“Yo! Kagura!” At least Hotaru’s grinning face was welcome, his kosode tugged open wide to reveal a blindingly pale chest as he waved at her. 

She didn’t know the others seated around their little circle, but recognized them for what they were. Two full fledged Dai-Tengu and their four ko-tengu attendants, the latter more crow than anything, with their grotesque, wrinkled beaked faces and taloned hands. They blinked at her owlishly when she stepped into the light, while their more human masters watched her curiously with pitch black eyes. 

Kagura flicked her fan in front of her face, acknowledged Hotaru’s greeting with a nod but kept her gaze on the crows. Gooseflesh slowly made its way across her arms and the back of her neck, the pressure in the room uncomfortable, the aura radiating off the dai-tengu sucking all the heat from the room. Momiji and Hotaru seemed to pay it no mind, if they noticed at all, but when Kagura glanced back into the hall, Achara’s face was oddly pale.

“Kagura the wind user, what a pleasure.” The one closest got to his feet, pale skinned and black eyed, with hair like an oil slick falling over his shoulders, and great wings folded neatly behind his back. 

“Can’t say I return the sentiment,” she said, dipping her fan and watching him carefully as he stepped up to her. Momiji probably clicked her tongue in reprimand, but went ignored.

The Tengu simply laughed, a dry chuckle that spoke little of humour.

“Unfortunate, but I’m sure that can change,” he said, smirking. “Won’t you grace us with your company?”

He reached out a hand, his fingers tipped in black talons. Kagura straightened, but didn’t back away as he trailed the back of his fingers across her cheek― 

She recoiled, sucking in a breath and flinching away from the ice in his touch; her skin buzzed unpleasantly, so deeply she could taste the sickening sensation in the back of her mouth, like something too sweet. 

He pulled his hand away, eyes wide, mouth slightly open in shock, but then the corner of his lips quirked.

Hotaru was at her side immediately and Achara’s hand gripped her forearm, tugging insistently. 

“I have something to take care of,” Kagura said, the words felt weak as she let her friend gently pull her away down the hall. She kept the crow’s gaze, a burgeoning grin on his face, until they rounded a corner.

“What the fuck was that?!” she hissed once they were out of sight, rubbing furiously at her still tingling cheek with her sleeve.

“The tengu’ve all got weird powers.” Hotaru eyed her curiously, “You know I have a high tolerance for bullshit, but they were giving me the creeps, too.”

“They aren’t much different than me,” Achara said, “holy beings who chose to be corrupted. He’ll know.”

“No wonder he made my fucking skin crawl.” She rubbed the back of her neck. There hadn’t been any malice in his expression, it seemed he was just as surprised as she, but that icy touch had been more than unpleasant. It felt like a fog, and she blinked to clear her head. Hotaru took her face in both hands, turning her head back and forth in a mock examination. She shook him off and turned to keep walking. “Remind me to stay the hell away from them.”

“I’ll be right there with you, don’t worry,” Achara said, though Kagura barely heard it, as her sense suddenly snapped back to attention when they came to a fork in the hall. A little too late, as she nearly collided with soft fur.

“Oi, watch it!” she hissed, hardly paying him or his stare any mind. She shut her eyes tight against the sharp stab of pain behind her eyes, the rubber band snap of her awareness coming back too quickly. She rubbed at her temple and glanced up at him indignantly. “What’s with the―” 

“Kagura?!”

A fuzzy red head popped out near Sesshoumaru’s knee, followed by the imp wringing his hands together. Shippou stared at her with his mouth hanging wide and his eyes as big as saucers. She squinted at him, trying to remember…

“Oh! The little tanuki!”

“I’m a fox!”

“He’s a fox,” Hotaru echoed.

Kagura waved a hand dismissively before she leaned over and pointed at him accusingly. “What the fuck are you doing here?” And then, to Sesshoumaru: “What the fuck is he doing here?”

Sesshoumaru’s expression didn’t change, his stare as blank as before, but before she could say anything else a palm clamped over her mouth and yanked her back, Hotaru muttering something to Sesshoumaru about forgiving his loud mouthed friend. She struggled in his grasp, ready to open her fan before she settled on the next best option. 

She bit him.

With a yelp he released her, and she rounded on him with the blunt end of her fan, a good smack to the top of his head and he backed off, moaning and clutching the bruise.

“So what the fuck is he doing here?”

“I was invited!” Shippou growled, jumping in between her and the dog who looked like he was trying not to pop a blood vessel. “I’m high ranked for my age―!”

“...oh, fucking hell,  _ shut up _ about the damn ranks!” Hotaru hissed behind her.

“―Tamamo no Mai herself asked me to come!” The boy shifted so that he could look around her to growl at Hotaru. “And what rank are you?! Full grown and only got one tail? You might be big and old but I bet you’re just a low level fuzz-ball―”

“Enough!” Kagura snatched Shippou by the base of his tail and gave him a shake before Hotaru’s fist could make contact with the boy’s head. “Aren’t you a bit too young to start a pissing contest?”

With a roll of her eyes she tossed him, he hit the ground just near Sesshoumaru’s feet, Jaken quick to pounce and berate the boy for being obtuse in his lord’s presence. Shippou bounced once and landed on his butt, glaring at Jaken and then growling back up Kagura. He jumped to his feet, as if he might lunge for her, his fangs bared in a tiny snarl. 

Bigger, but that didn’t account for much, Kagura thought, still a tiny thing.

“I don’t need babying, you bitch!” 

Apparently time with the hanyou had colored his vocabulary.

“Watch it, you little―” 

“Both of you,  _ shut up.” _

Shippou flinched, and stared up at Sesshoumaru, while Kagura crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“If you insist on arguing, do it  _ somewhere else _ .” 

He said it like he was the one with the ghost of a headache tickling him. He went to step past her, Jaken sneering at them both and making an intimidating gesture at Shippou.

“...at least he didn’t hit me,” the fox muttered, sticking out his tongue in defiance of the imp.

“Do you want me to change that? I can change that.”

Shippou glared up at her. “What are you doing here anyway?!”

“What business is it of yours, I―” 

“No, go ahead and answer his question, won’t you?”

Kagura froze, a dreadful silence falling over the group that had gathered in the crossroads, the realization striking too late in her haze as she turned to face the Lady Mother with a cool stare.

“I do hate to be vain,” she said as she stepped out of the shadows, gold eyes glimmering in the low light, a vicious smile pulling at her lips, and her head quirked, “but I can’t help the feeling that I know what your answer would be: hiding from me.”

Sesshoumaru had stopped, watching the exchange over his shoulder curiously. Kagura knew better than to look at him, she straightened her spine and squared her shoulders but didn’t bother with a smile.

“Merely a coincidence that we haven’t crossed paths before now,” she said, meeting the lady mother’s stern gaze.

“Hn, is that so?” His mother tilted her head as she took another step forward to place herself within arms reach. “You know, there is little I despise more than thieves other than liars. It seems you are both.” Her cold eyes slid past Kagura coldly. “Where is your rude little friend? I had thought his bones would make a good pick for my fangs.”

Kagura kept her voice level, ignoring questioning stares. She hated the words that slipped off her tongue. “Allow me to offer my apologies. I’m sure you can understand why I wasn’t able to keep up my end of the bargain―”

“The alternative was your death. Yet here you stand.”

“Mother.” Sesshoumaru stepped forward and they both looked up at him. His mother raised a brow.

“You know, when you asked about my son, I was curious about your relation, but,” she sniffed loudly, “I am glad that my initial assumption seems to have been wrong.” 

She couldn’t rightly blame the old bitch for being snide. Kagura would have been spiteful, too, if someone had gone against their word. But her head still ached and there were too many standing in the hall, crowding her, not enough space to breathe. Achara and Hotaru, as welcome as they were, were too warm against her back; and Sesshoumaru’s stare needled her face, an uneasy sort of curiosity radiating off of him in waves.

“What is this about?” he asked, coming back to stand almost between them. Kagura opened her mouth, but his mother was quicker.

“Oh? She didn’t tell you?” his mother said, twirling her hand to point one none-too-delicate claw in Kagura’s direction. “This one came to me, what was it now? Four years ago in the spring, asking to be granted passage to hell. I graciously allowed it and was promised either a show or a persimmon for my trouble yet I was given neither, even after her companion so rudely insulted me. And I come to find her here lively as can be.”

Silence fell save for Jaken’s shocked squawk, Achara’s hand tugged her sleeve but Kagura shrugged it off, her skin too hot with everyone staring at her. She chanced a look at Sesshoumaru and almost regretted it, a deep crease between his brows and his mouth set into a hard line.

“It’s as she says,” Kagura said softly, averting her eyes to the floor.

“So then, I’m still owed my due,” his mother’s smirk was audible, “what shall I take? Your eyes are quite a striking shade―”

“Mother.” Sesshoumaru stepped soundly between them, and she could no longer see his face. 

Kagura’s hand already gripped her fan with white knuckles and Hotaru had grabbed hold of the back of her obi, ready to spring away if necessary. She hardly needed it, but appreciated the gesture.

“Allow me to deal with this, you’ve only just arrived.”

His mother raised a brow curiously. Kagura could only stare at his back, shock and a trickle of trepidation swirling in her belly. His shoulders were set too tense, an edge to his posture she didn’t know how to interpret.

“I would say you’re being sweet to your mother but I have the feeling that isn’t your reason for saying so,” she said, running her tongue across her fangs as she considered it. She gave Kagura one long look and then her eyes moved back to her son with a shake of her head. “You’re not so wrong, my son. I am terribly weary after my journey, I expect you to deal with her accordingly and regal me with the tale some other time.”

His mother waved a hand over her shoulder as she turned, her step bouncing with a characteristic nonchalance and indifference that gave Kagura the feeling the old bitch had only sought to cause a disruption, as if she’d only been upset for appearances sake than a true grudge. 

Whatever the case, it hardly mattered, as soon as she’d disappeared from sight Sesshoumaru brushed past her, pausing just long enough to grind out a gruff order for Kagura to follow.

Any other time she might have bristled, but for once thought better of it. She gave her friends one last look, shrugging off their concerned faces with a wave. She cared little for the wide eyed concern of the fox or the grumpy frown of the imp, though she felt both burning holes into her spine as she walked away.

She followed him down the dark corridor, until a set of doors appeared from the darkness. Sesshoumaru slid them open with and stepped inside. A simple room that must have been set aside for someone who had yet to arrive, another set of doors on the opposite wall that led outside onto a veranda, a fact she only knew by the way the breeze brushed against the paper screens. 

Kagura paused on the threshold, watching the tense set to his spine, his body like a taut cord ready to snap. She took a breath and stepped inside, closing the door silently behind her back. The little kit had followed them, probably hiding in disguise just outside the door, but if Sesshoumaru noticed it didn’t show and Kagura could care less what the little bastard was privy to. 

She waited, for a question, for some snide comment, yet he was nothing more than a statue, still as death, frozen in the center of the room. She sighed. Fine. 

“I don’t need you hiding me from your mother, I can handle myself.”

There was a pause. “You think my goal was to protect you?”

The air stilled in her lungs, the wind holding its breath as she watched him. Silhouetted by the moonlight spilling through the paper screens, he turned to face her, golden eyes glowing with― 

_ Rage. _

“ _ Explain _ .”

“Explain _ what _ ?” she hissed, pushing off the door to better see his face in the dim light. His frown deepened, bordering on a scowl. “Sorry, I don’t answer to one word orders. How about you ask me a question and then  _ maybe  _ we can have a conversation.”

He leveled a cold glare at her, his gaze raking over her face so sternly she had to cross her arms. She felt the need to raise her chin, as if she could look down her nose at him.

“Why did you go to Yomi?”

A question she’d expected, but she couldn’t help her snort. She hadn’t planned the script for this, having had the full intention to meet his mother in private; though in hindsight, his presence might have done some good. She doubted that having to resort to taking the old bitch’s head would have gone over significantly worse than her current predicament.

Kagura ran her tongue over her teeth, rabbit holes of scenarios running through her mind. She could tell him… a version:

_ “I stole something from a god, and was sent to hell to resurrect one as punishment.” _

Not a total lie, but far from the whole truth. If he prodded there were too many holes in the story.

Closer to the truth:

_ “I stole something from a god’s shrine without knowing, and was sent to hell because a wind god threatened me to bring his nephew back.” _

Or, the actual truth:

_ “I stole something from a god’s shrine without knowing, and was sent to hell because a wind god threatened me to bring his nephew back. Turns out I hadn’t actually stolen anything and Fuujin is a right bastard. Also, Byakuya is alive because he’s who I brought back from hell. You’d think that was a mistake, but it wasn’t. And I―”  _

She shook her head.

The easiest option: Sesshoumaru didn’t fucking need to know.

“I had my reasons.”

“Kagura.” His lip pulled away from his teeth into the beginnings of a snarl.

“I don’t owe you an explanation,” she hissed, returning his snarl with a grimace of her own.

He stepped closer, she answered by stepping back. He followed until her shoulders bumped against the wall and he towered over her, trying to use his aura to unsettle her. Kagura still had her arms crossed and fought the urge to roll her eyes. 

“Am I supposed to be intimidated?” she scoffed. “You’ll have to try a little harder than that.”

“I’m owed an answer, Kagura,” he growled, his voice thick and dangerous. She wanted to laugh in his face.

“You’re not  _ owed  _ anything,” she spat back, “especially not from  _ me.” _

His aura faltered, just a little, his eyes flickering back and forth between hers. Second guessing himself, maybe. She took some pride in that.

“You’re the one who always came to me, asking for aid and offering it where it wasn’t needed, yet now you refuse to―”

“Because it has nothing to fucking do with you.” He wanted to bring that up? Fine. “I think I’ll go deal with your mother rather than whatever half baked interrogation this is. At least she makes things interesting rather than just growling at me.” 

She dropped her arms and moved to sidestep him, but he only closed the distance between them, crowding her against the wall.

“If Naraku―” 

“Stop.” She held up a hand to silence him, though it did little, as close as they were, she brushed against his chest with the movement. “If you’re assuming what I think you’re assuming―”

“And  _ what  _ would I assume? That you, Naraku’s incarnation, had reason to go to the land of the dead mere days after his death?” 

She felt as if she’d been slapped.

“You think I went to bring him back?” she spat incredulously, “is that what you think?”

His face was still cold but he merely raised a brow and tilted his chin towards her.

“You do.” She dropped her arms to her sides and stared at him, flabbergasted. At least that explained the hostility. He really thought that she would have… even after everything? How dare― 

“You haven’t denied it.”

“Why should I? You, more than anyone, should know better!”

“Then what reason did you have to go to Yomi? You who valued your freedom above all else, what reason could you have had to travel to the land of the dead? To take the chance of throwing that all away?” The snarl crept back into his voice and she flinched when he leaned forward.

“You trust me that little?” 

The scowl on his face smoothed out just a bit, but he kept his mouth shut.

Kagura scoffed. “Fine. Don’t. But it had nothing to do with  _ him _ .”

“Naraku always had elaborate schemes.”

“Get the fuck away from me.” She moved to step past him, but he just moved along with her. Looking down his nose as if she were nothing more than the tool she’d once been. “Unless you’re going to accuse me of something meaningful or make good on your mother’s behalf then you should quit while you’re ahead, Sesshoumaru.”

“Tell me  _ why _ .”

It would be easy to explain, to lay it all bare before him, the truth that would probably be more fantastical than whatever idea his little brain had cooked up. It would simple. But the look on his face, the suspicion and anger there pissed her off more. He’d always held her at arm’s length. She didn’t owe him anything.

“...before I start questioning your loyalties.”

Kagura nearly choked on her own spit.

“My  _ loyalties?!  _ I’m loyal to no one but me and mine. You should fucking know better. Besides, if this was some elaborate scheme, it’s always been you who changes his mind whenever it suits him! Even when you had that girl you still―”

She didn’t flinch as a poisonous fist collided with the wall beside her head, her expression cold despite the stink of dissolving plaster.

“Do  _ not  _ speak of  _ her  _ here.” 

There was a pause, silence between them as the plaster sizzled next to her ear. His face didn’t change, just as furious, his mouth turned up in a scowl; the silence dragged just a bit too long, long enough for him to realize what he’d done, a sliver of surprise as the scowl fell just a little.

Good.

All it took was a flick of her wrist to call a gust strong enough to make even her ears pop. His eyes went comically wide, the wind precise and targeted at his sternum. She felt the air leave his lungs in one short burst as he was thrown across the room, his shoulders collided with the opposite wall, cracking the plaster and sending dust and debris fluttering down around them as the room trembled.

Stunned, he pulled himself up to watch as she tore open the doors that led outside, throwing harsh moonlight across the floor but leaving him in shadow. She stepped out onto the veranda, her toes gripping the boards, and turned to look at him one last time. 

“Next time, aim for my head.”

She stepped off, and let the wind cushion her fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oop


	6. Avalanche

_ "Next time, aim for my head.” _

Sesshoumaru watched her go. Roof tiles cracked and slid beneath her feet as she lept between them, before she finally disappeared under an eave, then even her scent was lost to him, stolen away by a gust of wind, and with it any sense of responsibility he’d held for her.

He palmed his abdomen and took a breath, calculating the severity of the injury. Nothing broken, only sore and smarting. There would be a sizeable bruise, but the attack hadn’t meant to maim, only to shock and shove him off. It’d done the job fairly well, he hadn’t expected it, and the force had surprised him enough to send him stumbling, something he would not allow to happen again. 

There was an inkling, a tickle of energy swirling down his spine, knowing that he should follow, make right the blow she’d dealt him. The power was there, but his legs remained resolutely in place like a stuck wheel. 

The wall still sizzled from his poison, the plaster sloughing off and dripping to the floor to eat away at the tatami, bubbling and hissing with steam. A momentary lapse in control, his temper getting the better of him at the mention of Rin, the girl a tender subject that needed to be handled carefully in the mixed company that wandered the halls. Kagura had never been a threat where she was concerned, but the mere insinuation― 

He’d have to kill her, if he went after her now. Though given her little display of power, that might be a tougher task than he’d imagined. He’d never seen her in battle, and had underestimated what she was capable of.

Still, his legs refused to move and there was a brief twist of pain in his gut. 

He’d been a damn fool. 

Too caught up in the high of victory, he hadn’t questioned her miraculous revival or the change in her scent the way he should have, had simply let her go on her way because to do otherwise would mean questioning himself. 

It had been a debt, those years ago, a wrong that needed righting. She’d given him aid, aid that no doubt had contributed to the circumstances of her death. Her revival had lifted the weight from his shoulders and freed him from any due she was owed. He hadn’t questioned it, too caught up in blood red eyes and the memory of a smile… 

And then she’d done the same now, showing up where he least expected, all smiles and laughter and teasing. He’d grown too complacent, and allowed her through the doors without so much as a second thought all because she’d never given him reason to doubt her.

He was above such simpering weakness. A mistake that wouldn’t be made twice. If it was all some elaborate scheme then so be it, he’d killed the spider once already, he would do it again.

Yet, his legs remained resolute, stuck to the floor.

With a snarl he forced them to action, turning on his heel to go back inside. He slammed the door open, nearly snapping the fragile panes and almost tossing it off its tracks with the force. 

The light of a torch disoriented him, just a little too bright for the previously dark corridor. He blinked. ...It hadn’t been there before.

_ Typical.  _ There were times when he had the thought that his current predicament was more trouble that it was worth. Often, he lamented he could no longer enact the violence he was once so revered for. There were some positives to being a soulless monster. But Rin would be upset if the fox suddenly went missing. Unfortunate.

A solid thump of his fist against the wall as he passed and the kit tumbled to the floor with a pop of smoke. The boy glared up at him rubbing his head, but wisely kept whatever insult he wanted to voice to himself.

“If you’re going to eavesdrop,” Sesshoumaru said, stepping over him, “choose something less conspicuous.”

Shippou stared up at him, dejected, but it wasn’t until Sesshoumaru had taken several steps that he opened his mouth.

“I don’t like Kagura all that much, but… she used to help us sometimes.”

He didn’t stop, but Sesshoumaru minutely slowed his pace.

“If he was… if Naraku  _ was _ back, we’d know, wouldn’t we?”

Four years would be quite a stretch for the spider to plot his revenge. But then again, the bastard had lived half a century without Sesshoumaru ever hearing of him. It seemed he could bide his time where it mattered.

“‘Give people the benefit of the doubt,’” the boy said, optimistic, but then softened his tone. “...At least, that’s what Kagome would want me to say.”

Sesshoumaru scoffed and kept walking. “You spend too much time with humans.”

He picked up his mother’s scent trail, and finally found her lounging against a railing on one of the upper floors and looking out over the castle, a long pipe in her hand, watching as several younger dogs wrestled in the snow and slush of the courtyard. Above, the waxing moon hung in the star strung sky, it’s light nearly as bright as the sun despite it’s lacking a quarter, it set the nearby mountainside aglow with it’s icy glare. The temperature had already dropped significantly since the sun had set, yet that didn’t seem to bother his mother or her entertainment.

One of her retinue sat beside her, but scurried off at his approach. His mother looked up with a long suffering sigh and a roll of her eyes. She tapped her pipe against the railing, letting the wind catch the smoldering coals.

“I don’t smell any blood on you,” she said, giving him a once over, “though I do smell poison, and judging by the look on your face there wasn’t a  _ lack _ of violence.”

“I want to know what happened between you four years ago.”

“Don’t tell me you’re so easily swayed by a pretty face.”

He leveled a glare at her, which only earned him another sigh and a wave of her hand.

“She came to me with some spindly excuse for a god’s familiar,” she said, scoffing, “the damned thing looked like he could hardly stand, sick as he was, but still had the audacity to be rude. He  _ demanded  _ I open the way to hell for them to go fetch his misbegotten master.”

“A god’s familiar?”

The castle trembled, a tremor shaking the foundations accompanied by a series of shouts. Mother and son wore similar expressions of disinterest as they inclined their heads towards the sound.

Dust and snow swirled from one of the floors far below, kicked up by a collapsed roof. A fight? Not uncommon, there was always bound to be someone who lost life or limb when so many youkai were in one place. Spats rarely went regulated, so long as the skirmish only involved two aggressors willing to fight, nothing to be concerned over so long as they kept it to themselves. But whoever it was causing havoc down below didn’t seem to care for common decorum, destroying the castle as they were.

“That won’t be easy to fix,” his mother sighed, exhaling smoke.

“I’ll deal with it.” A way to dispel some energy. He turned, intending to take the long way down, but the wind changed direction, bringing new scents to him… 

The scent of blood and― 

… _ Poison. _

* * *

Son of a bitch. She should have fucking known better.

Memory hadn’t served her well, and a few cordial nights hardly meant anything when someone was a right bastard. A little friction at his mother’s arrival, she’d expected that, not whatever the fuck had just happened.

Whatever. It’d been getting too cold here, anyway.

She’d soothed her curiosity, and it had gone spectacularly worse than she’d expected. Fine. Now she knew better. At least there’d been little bloodshed, she had no interest in having to make the bastard a cripple again. She wasn’t sure if the feeling was mutual and didn’t care to find out.

Tekari jumped when Kagura slammed the door open to their room, the girl almost drowning in torn cloth as she worked. Urue hung like a shadow from one of the rafters, one glimmering red eye peered at her curiously from a crack in her wings.

“We’re leaving!”

“Really?!” The bat was on her shoulders in seconds, nearly giddy as she clawed at Kagura’s robes, searching for purchase on slippery silk. 

“Tekari, tell the others I’ve gone south,” she said, picking through the mess on the floor to find whatever decent clothes she could find. “Achara will know where to find me.”

Urue gave a high pitched chirp right beside her ear, but Kagura ignored it, choosing to continue her search, tossing the bulk of Momiji’s collection over her shoulder and Urue’s head in a heap. She’d need something sturdy and warm to forego using her own energy for heat, a thick wool hanten, a multi-layered kosode made of hemp, tabi― 

The door slid open behind her and Kagura jumped, not recognizing the aura. She turned, an insult ready on her tongue, only to be met with pitch black eyes.

“What the fuck do you want.”

“We weren't properly acquainted, earlier.” The crow who’d shaken her, a sly smirk on his face and flanked by his two lackeys. Kagura fought the urge to grimace when he sank into a deep bow. “I only came to make that right. I am Ryuuhoubou, fourth son of Soujoubou, Dai-Tengu of Niigata. A pleasure.”

“Can’t say I feel the same,” she spat, she waved the cloth slung over her arm at him. “You made your little introduction, now you can see I’m busy.”

He pursed his lips, pouting as he took a step over the threshold. “Well that would be unfortunate, I’ve been admiring your dancing these last few days, I just hadn't gotten the courage to ask for your companionship. I'm sure we could change your mind?”

The ko-tengu stepped up beside him, beady eyes flickering across the small room. Kagura dropped her bundle, taking her fan firmly in hand and quirked her shoulder, Urue fell, gliding away to land beside Tekari. The two ugly birds certainly lacked any sense of modesty, one already pawing at one of Hotaru’s flaming silken furisodes.

“I doubt it.” She eyed the ko-tengu with disdain. “And I suggest you get out of here before I lose my patience.”

His face fell and he clicked his tongue. He took a step forward. “Now, now, you’re here to entertain aren’t you? I think we could arrange something―”

“I’m not in the mood to play your fucking game, crow,” she hissed, “either tell me what you’re here for or get the hell out.”

He chuckled, a thick, unnerving thing that held little amusement despite the way his shoulders shook.

“You control the wind, don’t you?” He tilted his head, those pitch black eyes alight in wonder, a thread of awe coloring his voice. He reached out for her, the same as he had earlier in the night, trying to brush the back of his knuckles against her skin. She leaned away. “A good match, don’t you think? In a way, we both own the skies…”

She grimaced and smacked the flat of her fan against his hand, swatting him away as if he was nothing more than a fly. He pulled back, shaking his hand feigning injury.

“Besides,” he grinned, “I’ve never fucked a goddess before.”

There was a beat, the wind went still as the words processed, Urue might have gasped, but Kagura hardly heard it for the blood pounding in her ears. She put on a smile, and for a moment it looked like he just might believe the sincerity of it. She twirled her arm elegantly, her fan open wide.

“That’s nice, but I don’t think you heard me. I said―” she whipped her arm, energy curling off the blades like a well aimed punch, “―get  _ the fuck out!” _

The gust hit him in the side, bludgeoning his ribs and probably cracking a few. It hadn’t been her most refined attack, given the confined space, and half of the shoji doors went out with him, the wood and paper shooting out into the yard. Ryuuhoubou hadn’t expected the force of it, and it sent him flying into the slush outside, he skidded in the hard packed snow while his underlings squawked his name in shock.

“You should lower your expectations.”

For a moment he was still, and she wondered if she’d hit him hard enough to knock him unconscious. But then there was a quiver, his chest heaving with― 

_ Laughter? _

Silent, but definitely laughter. 

She would fucking kill him.

The crow looked up, propped himself up on one elbow, a wide grin on his face, showing off blinding white teeth. He pulled himself to his feet, his wings unfurled, spreading out wide as he gave a firm nod to his lackeys. 

And then he lunged. 

The air under his wings propelling him forward at a breakneck pace, crossing the distance to the open doorway within half a second. Kagura jumped back, throwing a gust in his face, the air pressure slowing his flight.

“Dumbass,  _ I  _ control the wind here!” She thrust her fan down, bringing a tornado down on his head and slamming him into the tatami which crumpled under the force. “Big wings won’t do you any good against me.”

His body was unrecognizable under the force of the attack and the debris caught up in the winds. The ko-tengu screamed for their master, flapping around the cyclone like headless pigeons trying to locate him.  _ This  _ was Soujoubou’s fourth son? A pitiful excuse for a dai-tengu, pathetic and a fool to boot. The crows would need to reeducate themselves on how to act before their betters.

Suddenly, the crows stopped their flapping and turned their attention towards her, determination flashing across their faces. Unfortunate. Their wing beats were slower, Kagura rolled her eyes, wondering why they even bothered. They charged from different directions, one from the front and the other at her back, though the sound of their wingbeats did little for stealth, and their squawking even less. 

“Ryuuja no mai!” Stupid. She heard wood splintering and plaster crack under the force of the cyclones, pieces of the room crumbling under the wind. Strange, that their little spat hadn’t been interrupted. 

She swatted away the crow at her front once he’d dodge the cyclone, she let it dissipate, not wanting to cause any more damage than she had. Her opponents hardly needed it, this was pathetic, she ought to just take their heads. The first was fluttering in the air before her like a fly, and just as annoying. Ryuuhoubou was still pinned beneath a cyclone, maybe she’d broken his spine, she hadn’t noticed him move since she’d thrown his face to the floor. 

“You still alive under there?” She called. She couldn’t feel his breath, so maybe not. She stepped over a torn cloth, Momiji would be pissed― 

“ _ Kagura-sama!” _

She turned, caught sight of Urue with a snarl on her face, her body pulsing, her fangs growing large in her mouth and her eyes glowing a bright crimson. Behind her, Tekari cowered, while the second crow swiped at them with his talons. She wanted to curse, she swatted the first one again for good measure and turned to deal with the son of a bitch. Something flared in her peripheral, that black aura again, faster this time― 

Pain erupted from her left shoulder, an icy cold from her collarbone and down her ribs as talons sliced through flesh and bone. The metallic smell of her own blood―and something  _ else― _ gushing from the wound met her nose before the pain had fully registered. She tried to breath, but even that was stolen from her as a hand clasped around her throat.

She was thrown back, that hand pushing her until her back slammed against a wall with a crack.

“You may control the wind, but we tengu have lived long enough to undermine it,” that voice was ragged now, breathing heavily. “I’ve never killed a god, either, so this will be a night of many firsts.”

Kagura bared her teeth, a snarl on her lips, but the sound was blocked by the hand crushing her windpipe. She squirmed under his hold, her hand clawing at his forearms. A knee forced itself between her thighs, pinning her to the wall. Those pitch black eyes demanding her attention when he forced his face close to hers, she struggled as his talons bit into the flesh near her jaw. She’d never been one for hand to hand combat, and his grip was like iron, his body immovable as she thrashed, trying to shove him off.

His intention was obvious, and she knew it by the tilt of his head, the way his gaze moved down and how he leaned forward. Her skin crawled and disgust flooded her, revolted at that touch and the feel of him. Her stomach roiled despite the pain eating away at her shoulder. Her left arm wouldn’t move, the muscles severed, but she refused to be outdone by a fucking bird.

Somewhere, Tekari screamed.

She needed air, just to pry his fingers from her throat. Her hand found his, she would just need enough space to inhale. It didn’t matter that the wind channeled from her hand sliced her skin as well as his, so long as it gave her room to― 

Kagura took a deep breath, and spit in his face.

Anyone else, it wouldn’t be a worthwhile blow, more to spite than anything, but the air in her lungs was enough to create wind strong enough to slice open his face from mouth to ear.

Ryuuhoubou released her immediately, cradling his jaw as he inspected the blood cascading down his cheek, from his face and his hand. Kagura coughed and gasped for air, not taking her eyes off of him but unable to move for the knee still between her legs. He met her eyes, and punched her in the face.

She hit the ground with a thud, her shoulder screaming against the shock, no longer ice cold, but beginning to warm. She received no relief when he followed after her, a fist connecting with the injured flesh and holding her down on the floor. He dug his talons into the injury, but Kagura managed to bite back the scream that tried to tear out of her raw throat. The expanse of his wings blocked out all light and shielded her from the outside world, reducing her reality to nothing but black. She flailed, finding a grip on her fan, she could only open it so far, but enough to raise her arm and bring down a wind blade, sharp as steel… 

And then Ryuuhoubou was the one to scream.

Blood spattered over her face, spilling into her eyes and mouth, the thickness of it and the taste of metal only increasing her gasps as she tried to breath and cough. She felt the heat of it seeping into her robes as those beady black eyes stared at her, unseeing, his mouth hanging wide. 

But her world was no longer black, light from the moon and far off torches lit the crow’s terrorized face. Not dead, but… 

Kagura shoved at him and he went off of her without struggle, falling to the side in the blood soaked rubble of what had been their room, a mess of roof tiles and bolts of sullied cloth. She went to stand, her hand going out to steady herself but she jumped when she touched something warm and feathered.

_ His wing.  _ One lay to her right, a clean cut where it had once been attached to his back. She’d taken the crow’s wings.

“ _ Urue _ !”

She forced herself to her feet, she stumbled at a stab of pain, heat bloomed in her shoulder, not quite hot enough to scald, but enough to make her uneasy. She spotted her familiar’s head peeking out from the wreckage of the building, shielding Tekari with her wings. And beyond her…

Spectators, some of them dogs, but none she recognized. And all of them wore a similarly disgusted expression, tense and flexing their own claws.

A squawk reminded her of the ko-tengu as one came charging at her, wings flapping and beak clacking. This time she did not hesitate and dispatched him quickly, one well aimed blade of wind rending the crow in half. He was dead before he hit the ground, the second right behind him and screeching in indignant fury.

Fine. She flicked her fan, and a corpse became a weapon.

The live one’s screeching turned to screams of horror as his dead companion rose and attacked. Kagura leapt over splintered support beams, gasping against the pain searing her chest.

“Let’s go!” Her voice shook more than she would have liked, the wound at her shoulder only growing hotter by the second. Urue was quick to grab the girl by the shoulders as Kagura pulled a feather from her hair and took to the sky, shooting straight up towards the moon.

Things hadn’t gone exactly as she’d planned, but that wouldn’t matter. She’d still go south, it would only take two days to reach Ise― 

Electricity crackled around them, the air pressure abruptly slowing her ascent, a warning that made her abruptly stop and nearly threw her passengers off.

The barrier. Kagura took a shuddering breath, they were trapped inside.

The fire in her shoulder was starting to grow unbearable, she struggled to keep her breath steady, and this was only another fucking thing she didn’t have time to deal with. She had to slow her breathing, to calm herself, a difficult task to try to focus on the feel of the wind on either side of the barrier.

Kagura held up a hand, if diamonds could pierce them then she could do the same; she’d spent too fucking long trapped inside barriers, she wouldn’t allow this one to stop her. Eventually, everything would fall to the wind. 

She pushed and pulled, the barrier wobbling under the pressure, until it finally…

Popped.

Dissolving like a bubble as sparks fell like snowflakes, it trembled, a wave buckling the membrane until it wobbled, a burning curtain falling to the mountainside as it shimmered until there was nothing left. The wind rushed in, sucked into the vacuum she’d created, but Kagura didn’t have the time to savor the beauty in it, her shoulder gave a sharp throb of heat, so strong it stole her breath and the feather bucked several feet. 

She clamped a hand over the wound and when she pulled it away her palm was smeared with blood and something thick and oily… 

No, they had to get away from here, she needed to go―the sea.

At this height it swallowed the horizon, glimmering in the moonlight. Above the water, the wind would be stronger, would be cooler, undampened by mountains and trees, out there, she could find solace. Trees rushed beneath them, the valley growing wider as they raced towards the coast, everything blurred together in a wash of greys and whites, the icy world beneath them painful just to look at until they passed the shore and the moon’s reflection softened against tumultuous winter waves.

She gasped as the inferno erupted along her shoulder, spreading to her arm, her neck, her  _ heart―!  _

Fire in her veins that wouldn’t be quelled by the icy air whipping at her skin, burning as hot as the bite of fiery chains digging into her flesh, as hot as Kagutsuchi’s flames. Her mind reeled, struggled to keep the feather afloat, only thinking of  _ focus, focus!  _ An attempt to smother the fire with sheer force of will but―too much, the heat infected her lungs, every breath like being dragged over a bed of coals, choked and rasping, she had to― 

“Urue… take Tekari…”

She didn’t even feel the slap of the water’s surface.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She really just not having a good day y’all :(
> 
> Side note Sess being grumpy uncle is definitely my favorite headcanon joke, he already adopted rin and basically kohaku, shippou is next
> 
> Also also my computer is out of commision so i’m not sure when the next update will be


	7. Downburst

The castle was thrown into chaos. There was the din of frantic screaming, panic because of the broken barrier and the corpse swinging at anyone within reach. The pieces of the dead crow didn't stop thrashing until the fox rushed out and set the thing aflame while muttering something about it being tougher than before, because even charred it still twitched and crawled until someone finally smashed it to bits.

Sesshoumaru caught the flash of white in the sky as Kagura's feather bobbed before shooting off towards the coast, the scent of blood trailing behind and leaving an unsettling sensation in his gut.

He gave barely a cursory glance over the mayhem before he followed.

He raced after her, his gaze stuck on that smear of white in the sky, the feather swerving erratically as she flew a breakneck pace down the valley. What the hell was she thinking? If that little stunt had been some slight directed at him or his mother, a last ditch attempt to spite them, more retaliation for his earlier loss of control, then it was his responsibility to find out.

The world below passed in a blur, greys and whites illuminated by the moonlight as he flew. The ice wind that whipped his face did nothing for the scent of blood and the thick, heady scent of poison clouding his mind. He blinked to try to clear it, but it did little to ease the fog, only made it harder to keep track of the feather blending into the glimmering water as the sea broke the horizon. If Kagura had noticed his presence she hadn’t acknowledged it, just kept on at her rapid pace; the feather swerving erratically and nearly grazing the tops of several naked treetops, bare twigs snagging on its barbs.

But then she was over the sea, the feather bucked, and the bat began to flap its wings, a child gripped in its claws as it frantically tried to make its way back to shore, screeching something when it saw him pass overhead, and―Kagura fell.

The feather slipped from beneath her, and she went down headfirst, skipping like a stone across the waves before finally sinking into the darkness below the surf.

There was a beat―the few seconds between her fall and when he reached the place she'd disappeared―where he held his breath, expecting her to resurface… but the water just continued its eternal beat against the shore, the roar of the waves nearly deafening as the sound of his own blood pounding in his ears.

One breath, then another, and still― _ nothing. _

Once, he’d pulled her from a river, he hadn’t cared then, he’d thought she was dead, hadn’t had a reason to save her and Rin and Jaken were there, it had been Rin who went in for her―but the longer he hovered there with the sea foam spraying his boots, staring at the murky abyss of the sea the louder his heartbeat became―every beat another second he was idle―even his eyesight would do little beneath the waves; his sense of smell: useless―the scent of her blood was still stuck in his nose and there was still a soreness in his sternum from when she’d shoved him after he’d nearly put a fist through her face and there was still no sign― 

There was a hiss, the tides changing direction, the water swirling a little further out to sea, a gaping whirlpool parting the waves as the wind rushed in to the vacuum it created, and for the briefest second he saw a flash of violet.

He dove.

The water might as well have been solid ice, the way the chill infected his bones when he thrust his arm into the water, palming blindly until his fist closed around cloth and Kagura’s limp form emerged from the darkness. Like pulling a cork, the whirlpool collapsed, leaving Sesshoumaru little time to do anything but sling her over his arm as he darted back to shore, silently grateful for having use of two.

Waves hissed and spat at him as he landed on the shore, the sand closest to the waters edge hard and frozen, solid as rock, and it wasn’t until he’d nearly made it to the treeline that it gave beneath his feet and he finally set her down on her back.

Unconscious, soaking wet with the ends of her hair already beginning to freeze against her scalp, the scent of blood growing thick again as her wounds were exposed to the air, her entire left side a mess of blood and viscera and poison clinging to her skin like tar, shallow cuts necklaced her throat, a gash following the length of her jaw, a bruise forming on her cheek, blood smearing her face, the claw marks running down her chest―She wasn’t breathing.

His blood went cold. The last time, there’d been a hole in her chest, no lungs to fill with water and drown in, and no reason to worry for someone who  _ should  _ be dead, but now she was just silent and still. He placed a hand over her belly, and felt nothing but the twitch of a sluggish heartbeat.

So he went with the quickest option. He punched her in the stomach.

Her reaction was immediate and the wind answered in kind. She shot straight up before collapsing again, spitting water and heaving, her eyes wide and what looked like a scream trying to strangle her, she could only gasped, emptying her lungs of the stinging saltwater with shuddering breaths until she was reduced to convulsing, dry heaving with loud, hacking coughs into the sand and in between gasps, muttering:

“...N-no―shut up,  _ shut up,  _ I _ - _ I’m fine… no, d-don’t―its f-f- _ fine... _ ” Her voice trembled, her words hardly intelligible with her chattering teeth, ragged breathing, and the howl of the cyclone whipping around them. At her words the wind calmed somewhat, but she continued to shake her head frantically, the movement causing more blood to well up from the cuts on her throat, her eyes half-lidded, unfocused and flickering rapidly.

Unsettled and unthinking, he reached out and cupped her cheek, holding her still to stop her thrashing, and finally her eyes focused on him.

And went wide with fear.

Her hand snapped up, gripping his wrist hard enough for her nails to leave bloody half moons in his skin.

“Kagura.”

She flinched, her grip trembled with the force of her shivering, her skin like ice against his, but she didn’t relent her hold.

“W-what―the fuck… you―” She suddenly threw her head back, her eyes screwed shut and gritting her teeth as a convulsion struck her. If she gripped his wrist any harder, she might have broken it.

Sesshoumaru eyed the gash along her shoulder, ignoring the twisting in his belly. Her collarbone visible through the viscera and coated in the thick, black coagulated poison. The tengu were known for their magics, deceptions and tricks, but he knew of their other abilities. It would devour her youki, setting her body against itself until there was nothing left. Common spirits, those with little, would simply starve themselves without the energy they relied on so heavily; while those with power, their body would turn against themselves, devouring everything in its wake until there was nothing left but an empty husk. A cancer, nothing like the acid that lined his own claws, nothing like the wound she would have received had it been him to attack her.

“Calm yourself.” She cracked an eye open at him, brimming with tears she wouldn’t allow to fall. “If you don’t your own youki will kill you.”

Both eyes opened, violet in the moonlight and swimming with confusion.

“My―? But… I d-don’t…” 

She released his wrist slowly, her nails pulling on his skin from the divets she’d made. He hesitated before letting his hand drop, and she slipped her fingers inside her collar and over her breast. Still shivering, her jaw clenched, she shut her eyes without breaking his gaze.

Kagura took a deep, shuddering breath, and Sesshoumaru’s hackles rose as a gust of wind surrounded them, heavy with an energy he didn’t recognize, but the change was almost immediate. Her breathing slowed, the muscle of her jaw loosened, and the divet between her brows smoothed out until it was nothing more than a shallow line of concentration. The thick liquid covering her wound slowly evaporated, creating a noxious steam that burned his nose. The wind was quick to drag it away, the stink dissipating on a breeze that calmed along with its mistress.

With a soft exhale she opened her eyes to stare absently up at the sky. The silence between them stretched, interrupted only by the roar of the waves as she stared up at the stars before her gaze slid to him. She tried to sit up, to prop herself up on her one good arm, but the sand beneath her was too soft and she nearly lost her balance, her shivering coming back in full force.

“What the f-fuck are you doing here.” Her chattering teeth made the words less than intimidating, but there was still violence in her eyes.

“You broke the barrier,” he said, choosing to remain kneeling beside her, “and destroyed parts of the castle, you should be grateful I’m the one who came after you.”

“Should I?” she hissed. “You waitin’ for somethin’? Got a good shot to take my fuckin’ head―should do it now ‘fore I get back on my―my feet.”

He thought of the rage that had consumed him when he’d confronted her, questioning his own intelligence and the mention of Rin getting the better of him. She hadn’t been afraid then, angry and spiteful to be sure, but even with his claws inches from her skin she hadn’t flinched, just turned his anger back on him and gone her way. But now there was hesitation, anxiety in the way she held herself up straight despite her injury, in her shivering and in the shuddering breaths she took. 

If they’d truly fought, he’d have insured she found herself in a worse state, but the icy tingle in his palm, the ghostly memory of her freezing skin had frozen the rest of him.

Kagura glanced at his hands and something in his belly twisted sharply.

“...Kagura-sama?”

They both looked up, the bat and the moth girl stood within the shadows of the tree line, watching them carefully. For once the bat looked more worried than furious, ignoring him in favor of staring at Kagura. He wondered how long they’d been there without his notice.

“Are you alright?” she asked, hesitantly.

There was a pause, and Kagura scoffed. “Am I―are you f-f-fuckin’ serious?” She sounded more like herself, a good sign. “I― _ fuck _ , Urue.” 

The bat hardly looked put off by the outburst, she just silently waddled closer, watching Kagura with apprehension, her gaze falling to her chest once she got closer.

“Don’t fuckin’ start,” Kagura warned. Sesshoumaru didn’t care to know what she meant by it, as the girl was only a few steps behind and staring at him in terror, her face pale and eyes wide. She looked halfway to tears. When she’d closed the distance to a few feet she suddenly dropped to her knees and bowed, pressing her face into the sand.

“Please accept our apology! Kagura-sama was only defending herself! Those men came and―” 

“ _ Tekari _ .” 

The girl snapped her mouth closed and shrank in on herself, looking apologetic. As for Kagura, she’d turned her eyes to the sand, for the first time since he’d pressed her against the wall in that room not glaring daggers at him. His gaze fell again to the marks around her throat, the gash marring her cheek, and the stain near her chin that he realized now wasn’t blood― 

His stomach twisted again. 

Kagura turned her head but he stood and took a step back before their eyes could meet. Kagura sucked in a quick breath. He chose to ignore it, until the sound of heavy wingbeats reached his ears.

Two of the ko-tengu appeared over the treeline, only visibly by the barest sliver of moonlight shimmering over their wings. They squawked and squealed, announcing their approach with vigor. Their rancid stink came next, making Sesshoumaru’s nose sting as they neared. There was the sound of shifting sand, and when he looked back over his shoulder Kagura had gotten to her feet, head held high and shoulders straight despite her trembling limbs and the pain evident in the lines of her face.

“Ah, Sesshoumaru-sama! Looks like you found her before us!” Their voices were as grating as their attitudes. They landed a few feet away, brandishing their naginata in their taloned fists. With their beaked mouths it was difficult to read their expression, though their posture was relaxed. Odd, given how easily she’d dispatched their counterparts. 

“We would like to thank you, Sesshoumaru-sama, for finding her,” the larger one said, and both bowed. “Our eyesight is quite good but our sense of smell cannot compare to yours. If you don't mind, we will gladly bring her back.”

The shorter one ignored him in favor of leering at Kagura, he took a step forward, but Kagura only answered it with a cool stare.

“Come any closer and I’ll leave you in worse shape than your master.” Her voice held firm, and the air was suddenly a few degrees warmer.

“Stupid cunt!” he guffawed and he lunged forward, “I’d like to see you tr―”

And was blown back into the surf, spewing blood from the cuts criss crossing his front. Kagura had only swung her arm, her fan most likely lost to the sea, but the blow had been enough to disorient the crow and wound him severely enough to incapacitate him. But whatever energy she’d put into the attack took its toll, she swayed and nearly stumbled, an opportunity the second crow pounced on. He leapt forward, blade aimed at her throat, an attack that would have nearly succeeded if not for Sesshoumaru’s claws.

The air left his lungs in a soft gasp as Sesshoumaru’s hand punctured straight through his chest, leeching poison into the wound, the acid eating away at any tissue it touched as Sesshoumaru pulled his hand away, letting the body fall facedown in the sand. He flicked the blood off his claws as much as he could, but the stain would remain on his sleeve.

Kagura stared at him. 

Sesshoumaru stared back.

The waves kept rolling as the injured crow tried to pull himself out of the water, stumbling every time another wave crashed over his head. Kagura glanced at him, then at the corpse on the ground, before she sighed and shut her eyes. Her body swayed, struggling to stay upright though she refused to stumble again.

“Return to the castle.” Any longer spent there and she’d be a frozen statue come morning.

Kagura scoffed, her confusion quickly giving way to her earlier indignation. “ _ Fuck you _ . Why would I do that?”

Fine. He didn’t need to argue with her. If she wanted to die such an undignified death, then fine, that was her choice to make. He wouldn’t be bothered trying to change her mind if she trusted him that little―a small voice reminding him that she had some reason not to―then she was more than welcome to a grave in the sand.

But something gave him pause, he didn’t leave straight away. He watched as the bat worried over her wounds only to be shaken off, while the girl was having an internal battle with herself looking like she might scream or cry any second as she rolled her toe through the sand. The injured crow squawked something, and Sesshoumaru had half a mind to kill him, too, but watching him fumble in the water was its own sort of satisfaction, something to sooth the growing irritation he felt watching Kagura struggling to breath.

The sound of more wingbeats, though Kagura looked less anxious about these, and it wasn’t until the scent reached his nose that he recognized it as the bird that traveled with her troupe. But not alone― 

The other dai-tengu and another ko-tengu were following in their wake, and Sesshoumaru recognized the more humanoid crow as the younger brother, his face fuller and expression a little fearful as they crossed over the line between forest and beach, Achara going straight to Kagura while the other two took a moment longer to descend. Sesshoumaru debated simply tearing them out of the air, that it might be a nice way to use the furious energy coursing through him. But the crow must have noticed the vicious atmosphere, as his eyes went wide with fright.

“Stop! Wait!”

The wind grew hot again as they landed, the crow carrying something large with difficulty, but he was quick to go to his knees, ignoring Sesshoumaru entirely in favor of prostrating himself before Kagura, hands fisted over his thighs as he kept his gaze on the ground. The other crow went to his knees as well, head down in the sand while Achara took their place beside Kagura.

“My name is Sagamibou, I am Soujoubou’s fourteenth son, I came to offer my sincerest apologies for my brother’s behavior,” the dai-tengu said, “there is little I can do to atone for what he’s done, but I and my father will do our best to atone for his actions.”

Kagura scoffed.

“Please, my brother made a mistake, I know that it’s little consolation, but for now―” he laid the bundle he carried on the ground before her, “take these, an offering―”

The sound that left her lips was close to a snarl. 

“I don’t want any fucking  _ offering  _ from you, your brother should be lucky I only crippled him. If I ever see any of you again I’ll drop you out of the fucking sky.”

Her anger infected the air, and whatever he’d brought was soon torn to shreds, and it wasn’t until bits of torn and bloodied feathers swirled in the air that Sesshoumaru recognized it for what it had been. Ryuuhoubou’s wings meant as a war trophy. The crow watched in awe, his mouth hanging open and eyes wide and frightful. 

“Get the fuck out of my face.”

He nodded furiously, rallying his subordinates, the injured crow struggled to follow until Sagamibou snapped at him and the other came to his aid. The pitiful crew taking to the sky again without any sort of grace. 

There was silence as they all watched the crows disappear beyond the valley, leaving their dead brethren behind in favor of escape. If they were smart they’d be gone by morning, and even smarter to hide in their nests until the month was out. He didn’t doubt Kagura’s ability to bear a grudge. Or his own.

Kagura sighed. “If I had known that was gonna’ happen, I would’ve taken his balls instead.”

There was an indignant hiss from the bat

“I've heard Tengu women have appetites just as voracious as their men, he may have mistaken it for foreplay.”

Kagura blinked at him and then let out a laugh that she was quick to stifle with her fist, the outburst surprising the both of them. The motion must have pulled on her wound because she winced, her teeth grit in a grimace. For once she let herself sway and fell back to the ground, steadying herself with deep breaths.

“Your injury is severe.”

She looked up at him, an irritated glint in her eye, but then she blinked and it was confusion coloring her face. And it was maybe only a little too late that he recognized what it might have that had given her pause. Her kneeling there on the ground, and he… 

And then the moment was lost, interrupted by the bird stepping between them. 

“Kagura, come on, let’s go back.”

She grimaced and shook her head. “No.”

“ _ Kagura.” _

Sesshoumaru watched curiously, that unsettling sensation bubbling in his stomach. Her shivering was irritating in a way he didn’t care to question, and the smell of her blood was very close to giving him a headache. He contemplated simply leaving them behind, but if she returned without him it would be his mother greeting them at the gate. 

“You intend to remain here and freeze?”

She snapped her head to glare at him. “You think I’d go back to get stuck inside that barrier again?!”

“You’ve already proven you can break it,” he drawled, “what’s the use in fearing it?”

“I’m not―” she shut her mouth and shook her head, most likely concluding that wasting her energy arguing with him would lead to nothing. A tremor wracked her frame, and she braced a hand against her wound with a wince.

“Kagura.”

Achara leaned down and placed their hand on her shoulder. The two of them speaking in low tones:

“We should go back.”

Kagura sighed. At least she seemed more inclined to listen to them. That or exhaustion was finally beginning to take its toll.

“...I’m not sure if I can, not with…”

“I can carry Tekari.”

“Good.”

“And you?”

“I―” Kagura must have noticed his staring because she glanced up at him for the briefest second. “I’ll manage on my own.” 

A miniscule nod, but Sesshoumaru didn’t bother to wait for them, she’d said she could handle herself, something he had no doubt of. He turned on his heel, leaving them behind on the beach; but it wasn’t until he heard the sound of her feather expanding that he took to the sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sess: "you’re injured? Hm ……… Turns out i don’t like that, but you are covered in someone else's blood and can literally control the dead so… thats pretty sexy of you"
> 
> Chapters are going to start coming later as I’ve pretty much caught up to what I’ve written, so pls be patient! Honestly I’ve only been getting so into updating because of everyone’s enthusiasm and support, so thank you to everyone that’s keeping up with this


	8. Gust

It took longer to return than he would have liked, Kagura lagging behind and setting the pace for everyone else. Her exhaustion getting the better of her and even Sesshoumaru reluctantly slowed to accommodate it. A small blessing, he realized, as by the time they landed before the castle’s gate the barrier had been reestablished, which meant that the damage was minimal, though he was still unsure of what reception awaited them on the other side.

Their footsteps crunched against the ice and snow as they landed and Sesshoumaru glanced over his shoulder to take one last look at Kagura. She stumbled a little when she landed, her wounds had stopped weeping, the blood either properly coagulated or frozen, but tremors still wracked her frame and her robes had frozen solid, creaking with shattered ice when she moved. Despite that she met his gaze with as much haughty pride as she could muster, setting her shoulders and raising her chin in defiance. He understood her reluctance to return, knew that the fault lay with him, but preferred her indignation to the alternative.

They passed through the rhododendron gate, the barrier crackling against their skin, only to be met by his mother’s stern glare.

“You have quite the knack for causing trouble, don’t you, girl?”

Kagura bristled, but her mouth only thinned into a hard line as she returned his mother’s look with nothing more than stoicism. A crowd had gathered, those cleaning up after the mess and onlookers hoping for another fight. He spotted Jaken and Shippou peering through gaps between kneecaps. For as much as the imp griped about him, he tolerated the fox well enough.

“No smart remark? And here I thought you were more amusing than that,” his mother scoffed, leaning a little too close to Kagura’s face. “That wound does look awfully painful―”

“Mother.” 

He didn’t need them arguing―or worse.

His mother turned to stare at him, narrowing her eyes in suspicion as her gaze slowly slid back to Kagura and then again to him. She paused, staring at him until she finally clicked her tongue and shook her head, muttering something under her breath he couldn’t hear, but Kagura was close enough that her eyes went wide. Sesshoumaru had no intention of asking what she’d said.

Instead he kept walking, shouldering his way through the crowd and leaving Kagura and his mother to glare daggers at each other if that’s what they chose to do. It was none of his concern.

He’d already saved her from drowning, the tengu’s poison, and insured she didn’t freeze to death on the beach, he had no responsibility to protect her from his mother. Even injured as she was, Kagura had proved she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself and his mother was unlikely to want to sully her robes in such mixed company.

“That little trick was impressive, I’ll give you that.” Kagura must have begun to walk behind him, because his mother’s voice didn’t fade with the distance. “Those crows came back looking awfully terrified, I assume that was your doing, I would hope my son would have had less discretion.”

Apparently he’d been gone long enough that his mother’s new preferred way of making war was irritating her prey to death. He credited it to her age finally taking its toll.

“ _Kagura!”_ The oni’s voice was grating as she barreled through the crowd, grunts of displeasure following in her wake. “What is wrong with you?!”

“Fuck off, Momiji.”

“No! You always pull this shit and now look what you’ve done! My collection is  _ ruined  _ or buried under ten feet of rubble! What am I supposed to do now?! You know how much all that cost me! I can’t believe you―”

“ _ Shut up _ !”

Curious, Sesshoumaru stopped and turned back.

“I’m not in the mood.”

Under the dim torchlight filtering down from above, he realized how pale she was, the exhaustion showing clearly on her face though her entire being held taught to contain her shivering. An attempt at subterfuge undone by her left arm, the muscles of her shoulder too damaged to properly control, leaving her hand hanging limp and trembling.

“I don’t care! I can’t  _ believe _ you! You owe me―”

He’d had enough of her screeching, and unlike the spectators had no interest in watching Kagura smash in her thick skull. 

“Oni.” She flinched and looked up at him. “You’re annoying.”

He may as well have slapped her for the way she gasped and clutched at her chest. Scandalized, she flapped her mouth for longer than necessary, but the woman wasn’t stupid, and finally settled on snapping it shut. A wise choice. Kagura may have laughed, but any amusement she felt was quickly lost in a gasp and a series of steadying breaths. 

“Kagura.” 

She looked up at him with narrowed eyes, trying to school her breathing back to something calmer. He only gave one short jerk of his head, an indication for her to follow as he turned back to go up the steps. He didn’t wait to see if she did, but he heard the bat questioning her, the soft voices of her companions asking after her condition, even the oni wishing her well as Kagura reassured them. Sesshoumaru didn’t bother to turn back until he was nearly at the end of the walkway, simply wanting to be sure he should even bother leading her if she hadn’t followed.

But she was. Crimson eyes bright despite the dried blood smearing her skin and the sallow color of her cheeks, her gaze stuck on him as she walked the center of the path, spectators on either side watching her every move. Her arm still trembled, but the rest of her held firm. Regal; as if the stain across her chest were glittering rubies rather than her own blood.

Sesshoumaru turned away, down a small branching hall and away from prying eyes.

Her apprehension was nearly palpable as he led her deeper into the keep, he idly wondered how long it would be before she said something. Wood and plaster gave way to polished stone, earthen corridors carved into the rock and illuminated by the warm glow of the incandescent fixtures embedded in the walls, and still, she said nothing. 

It wasn’t until he caught the heady scent of damp earth that he knew where to turn, a glamour hiding the entrance even to his own eyes. If Kagura was surprised she made no show of it, though she would have had to follow him blindly. He stopped and turned to her, where she hesitated. 

Torchlight from the castle's interior distorted by the barrier lit her silhouette and left her face in shadow, but he could clearly make out the way she gripped the wall for support, having dropped her strong facade now that they were alone. Light shined down on her head, illuminating the ice crystals in her hair and giving her a glittering golden halo. It hardly distracted from the furrow in her brow or the severe line bisecting her jaw from her clenching her teeth.

“I’m guessing you didn’t bring me to this cave to stare at me,” she hissed. Her voice still wavered, thick and rasping.

His only answer was to continue up the corridor, carefully listening to the steady sound of her steps, paying attention to any change in the rhythm, in the sound of her panting.

The path wasn’t very long, though he assumed that made little difference to her in her sorry state, as far as she’d forced herself to go since they’d left the beach. Ahead the corridor opened, a warm draft touched his face as they approached, the light growing brighter as they stepped out into the cavern.

Older than the mountain itself, it rose to dizzying heights above them, the ceiling lost in the darkness. Somewhere, off in the shadows, there was the patter of dripping water, forming more of the spindly stalactites that fell to the ground, reaching down like skeleton fingers while in the soft light their counterparts rising from the stone may as well have been wandering ghosts. The stone had long ago been smoothed, eroded by water and the footsteps of his ancestors into paths that crisscrossed the cavern, leading off down other dark corridors. 

Only several steps behind him, Kagura sucked in a breath. 

It didn’t take much thought to understand why.

Bones. Skulls stacked high on stalagmites, rib cages and limbs arranged against the walls to form geometric patterns, broken shards scattered the floor, crunching beneath his boots, empty eye sockets staring back at them from those long dead. Oni, youkai, and human alike, some larger than he was tall, others as small as his fist; war trophies from battles long since won. The flicker of torchlight cast odd shadows amongst them, making them dance and grin at him with glittering white teeth. Ryuukotsusei’s skull would have found a home here, had his father lived to defeat him.

Kagura let out a dry chuckle, the sound echoing into infinity around him.

“You asked me why  _ I  _ went to Yomi when you’ve got your very own right here…”

Sesshoumaru stopped and looked back at her. Her hand had found purchase in the eye sockets of something that looked vaguely human―hard to tell without flesh―and she leveled a grimace at him, her hair thawed and clinging to her skull from seawater and blood.

“Planning to add me to the collection?”

He blinked at her, not bothering to respond to such an accusation.

His lack of response had the opposite effect of pacifying her, her grimace turned into a furious scowl. Her fist tightened its hold on the skull and there was a deep rumble, the skeletons surrounding them beginning to quake and tremble. He paid them little mind, keeping his gaze level with hers. 

“If you want to fight, I’ll oblige you,” he said softly, “but you aren’t in any condition to do so.”

Her lip pulled up into a sneer, the rumbling increasing to a higher pitch and the skeletons closest to him shivered, rattling as they lifted away from their perches. There was a moment where he expected that the horde would descend on him, an army of her making, but then the ferocity on her face fell, resignation clouding her features and the bones fell back to their places.

That didn’t mean that her fist didn’t pull the skull from the wall, sending a small avalanche of bones crashing to the floor, just to whip the thing at his feet. It shattered into hundreds of fragments, and with its destruction taking whatever anger had fueled her.

“ _ Ass _ .”

She pulled herself away from the wall, unsteady feet slipping against the broken bones littering the floor. She made as if to shove past him, but between her tremors and the uneven ground she stumbled―

His hand snatched her elbow without thinking, holding her upright beside him. Kagura hissed, the movement pulling on torn muscle; she gasped, her eyes lifting to look up at him, her lips parted, a furrow in her brow. There was the space of a breath where she did nothing but stare up at him, her weight shifted just a little, leaning into him for support, the chill of her skin like an icy draft against his side… but then there was the smattering of bone shards collapsing nearby and her sense came back to her like a rubber band snap.

She snatched her arm back, throwing herself against the wall of skulls for support and refusing to look at him.

“Don’t touch me.”

The tremors came back in full force, but Kagura just shook her head and kept her gaze stuck to the floor.

“I’m tired,” she said, proving it with the weakness in her voice, “and I don’t know why you brought me to your little boneyard―”

“Your shivering and the stink of your blood is annoying,” he snapped. He fought to keep the scowl off his face as he started to walk away. “If you prefer to stay here and play with corpses, you’re more than welcome to it.”

It was only a moment before she sighed and the litter on the floor cracked and clattered as she followed.

He crossed halfway into the cavern before he turned and continued up into another passageway, this one taller than the one they'd come from but no ess dank and narrow. Stairs had been carved into the floor here, to compensate for the sharp incline. He could smell the muggy heat and hear the subtle sound of moving water wafting down from up ahead. The stone here shimmered in the dim light, condensation from the humidity. He made sure to plant his feet firmly so as not to slide on the wet steps and minutely slowed his pace, allowing Kagura the time to follow.

They rounded a bend and the passage opened into another cavern, this one free of bones and instead overtaken by pools of water. A hot spring, the water gushing from a crack in the stone and cascading down from one pool to the next, three in total until it fell from the last as a spring, disappearing down another crack and flowing back down into the mountain. The last cascade tall enough for even him to fully stand underneath. More steps gouged into rock to allow one to pass easily between each pool without climbing or jumping. The water itself sparkled in the light, heady with the scent of herbs and minerals.

“The waters are enchanted to expedite healing.”

Her gaze itched as she needled his face. He refused to look at her, to give in to whatever question or insult waited on her tongue. He didn't need to wait long, even her tenacity worn thin with exhaustion. She stepped up to the falls, her back to him and letting the water spill across her hand. Already, the tension in her stance lessened, her robes thawing with the steam. 

Kagura let out a contented sigh, a sound that snapped Sesshoumaru to full attention just in time to watch her slip the sleeve off her injured arm.

She hissed at the movement, still struggling to move the arm as she stepped fully beneath the water, letting it spill across the back of her neck. Her shoulder was still raw, blood marring the skin of her back and her lapel hung just low enough for him to see the burn between her shoulder blades― 

He exhaled, perhaps a little too heavily. She turned her head to look at him over her shoulder, eyes dull in the dim light as she watched him. Streams of water pouring down her cheek and washing away the blood on her back in long pink lines that disappeared beneath sodden fabric; no longer frozen, soaking wet, her robes clung to her skin.

"Expecting a show?"

He blinked. There was no mischief in the taunt, no tittering or teasing in the way she said the words, no toothy smirk playing on her smeared red lips.

Sesshoumaru hardly met her eyes before he turned on his heel, intending to return to the castle. But an itch in his spine stopped his feet before he could step up into the hall.

“Kagura.”

He didn't turn to look at her, but he heard the stillness in the air, the indication she was listening.

“It won’t happen again.”

And then he left her alone.

* * *

She didn’t turn to watch him go, but her breath stilled, caught in her throat as the sound of his footsteps faded up the corridor. Soft words, but solemnly spoken. 

With a shuddering sigh she sank to her knees, bracing herself with one hand against the wall, letting the rushing water run over her skin. She knew it was hot by the steam and the smell of it, but to her frozen nerves she hardly felt it, it may as well have been as cold as the sea he’d pulled her from.

Her cheek still itched from the warmth of his hand, her arm from where he’d grabbed her. She wanted to laugh, wondering why he’d even bothered. 

In a way, she could guess at his reasons: pride, maybe guilt, embarrassment over his lack of control, a temper tantrum someone like him had no business indulging in, but― 

_ “Tch, even my son is nothing but a man.” _

His mother’s words bounced around her skull. The most ridiculous reason of them all. Because if that  _ were _ true, then―then why the fuck had he bothered getting pissed off in the first place. 

She hissed, her wounds beginning to sting and itch as the flesh pulled back together. A small thing, she wouldn’t have to worry about the tearing and burning of her skin for much longer, but it seemed the healing waters did not come with their own cost. She could feel her reserves leeching away. It had taken a not insignificant amount of energy to calm her youki, and now the rest of it was being stolen to fix her broken skin. 

Hopefully the waters would warm her enough to hold her over. She had little left to keep herself going.

She held herself steady to scrub at her face, to remove what remained of the crow's blood. She hissed when she inadvertently scraped the gash along her jaw, and with a sigh stopped to let her head hang to allow the water to do its work.

It was slow going, every nerve screaming to life as her skin knit back together. She focused on the din of the rushing water, on dragging in each breath, slow and steady. Her lungs bubbled, the sound of leftover seawater, with a sigh she pressed a hand to her mouth, forcing herself to swallow air and force out the water. She coughed, the salt stinging her throat as she spit into the water swirling at her feet. 

It felt like an eternity before the water ran clear and her nerves finally began to settle, her flesh still raw and pink, but no longer angry and weeping. But she was still cold, a shiver along her skin even as she stood under the falls. She stepped out and her flesh pebbled against the chill.

With some difficulty she removed her soaked robes, the fabric fighting her at every turn, weighed down by water, but she finally managed to slip them off and tossed them aside with a slap against the rocks. Too torn to be used again, the colors had run together because of the bloodstains and the ice. A pity, she’d quite liked that one and she’d have to make a mad dash to the others, wherever they were now, and hope that they’d managed to salvage something for her to wear. She still hadn’t developed the knack for illusions like her brother had, and she had little interest in running outside naked in the cold.

The staircase was slick as she made her way up to the top pool, nearly slipping on the steps. Kagura undid her hair and slipped into the water, heat spreading from her toes and warming the rest of her, though it was several minutes before her shivering fully stopped, before she could even  _ feel  _ the warmth. 

She ran her fingers through her hair under the water, the strands horribly tangled and still stuck with blood, but after soaking awhile she decided to leave well enough alone until she had something better than her hands and simply chose to lounge in the water. 

With the warmth settling in her bones her mind wandered, wondering if she should still head south, imagining her brother’s laughter if she told him what had happened, she could hear his mocking voice making her ear itch. She reached up, toying with the lobe and the hoop slung through it… she could always go back north, but that carried too much… if she stayed here she needed to have a talk with a certain dog, two, really, she could hear one in her mind, snide and haughty, and the other would have nothing to say to her, pride and circumstance keeping him from telling her what the hell his problem was… why he’d brought her to his hellhound’s treasure trove, she could already hear the bird screeching at her, Urue’s measure scolding about how they were no different― 

The sound of shuffling feet and her eyes shot open.

From the lower corridor, a servant woman appearing with her head bowed. Kagura crawled to the edge of the pool so she could get a better look; old, grey hair trailing down her hunched back. The woman carried a bundle in her arms, set it down on a smooth rock near the wall before turning to the steaming heap of Kagura’s torn robes.

“Would you like these mended, ma'am?”

_ Ma'am?  _ “No.”

“Very well.” She bowed deeply and left, her shuffling bouncing off the walls of the cavern.

With a sigh Kagura pulled herself out of the water, her muscles tensing in response to the change in temperature as she went down to her things, a tentative hand reaching out for the bundle the woman had left behind. On top, a black lacquer comb and a pair of thick socks. Her fingers skimmed the texture of the cloth underneath, not recognizing the fabric as she began to palm through them. Not hers, she realized as she held up the short robe that lay on top, made of a thick material she didn’t recognize, a deep dusty maroon. The second layer a deep forest green, but it was the outermost that caught her eye.

Hard to tell in the dull warm light, but she was almost sure of the pale lilac, the splotches of magenta along the shoulders and sleeves.

_ Hn.  _

She hadn’t expected that.

She pulled on the last layer, most likely a long coat in charcoal grey, and something went clattering to the floor at her feet. She blinked, staring at it as her mind processed what she was looking at.

Well, it seemed he was full of surprises.

Kagura bent down to retrieve it, letting the fan slide open as she held it before her face. She watched the light play out across the gilded golden surface of the paper and as she began to dress and comb out her tangled hair she had to bite back laughter, figuring it was the closest she’d ever get to an apology.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo, so like who's already tired of this slow burn and the some 19,000 words I just wrote about a 3 hr period of one night? Cause I sure the fuck am and I'm the one writing it!!! But don’t worry! BECAUSE...There’s more where that came from


	9. Thaw

_ “So… what the hell happened?” _

The question slapped her in the face the second she stepped out into open air, her brother’s voice carried on the wind, garbled, like too many voices speaking at once, whispered through the miles between them and inaudible to anyone who didn’t know how to listen.

“Don’t worry about it.”

_ “‘Don’t worry about it’ she says,”  _ Byakuya scoffed,  _ “hard to do when all of a sudden my nice warm bath goes ice cold.” _

“Sounds like a personal problem.” He was always so dramatic.

_ “Yeah, the problem being  _ you.”

Kagura couldn’t help but laugh, picturing clearly how he must be rolling his eyes. She’d come out towards the upper floors of the castle, a path carved into the rock looping around the mountain. Looking out over the valley, she could see the trees tremble with his voice, skeletal fingers waving to the sky that had begun to turn, no longer the deep black of night but a softening gray from the oncoming dawn. Still strung with twinkling stars but the moon must have set hours ago, leaving the sky a blanket of glittering diamonds. 

“I’m fine, really,” she said softly, keeping her voice low. As irritating as he could be, she knew his concern for her was genuine, and that he was one of the few people she could truly rely on if needed. A small list, she could count them on one hand.

“ _ I know,”  _ he hummed, “ _ but who am I if I don’t badger you for it?” _

His voice was warm, coming from the south, but a breeze caressed the mountain, bringing a chill with it. Kagura shivered involuntarily, gripping the lapels of the hanten tighter around her shoulders.

_ “Leave it to you to start getting into trouble as soon as you get back.” _

She chuckled. “Just bad luck, I suppose.”

_ “For you? Just the normal state of affairs.” _

“Please, it’s been weeks since I’ve gotten into anything, you’re just being dramatic.”

_ “Can’t help it,”  _ he hummed as Kagura rounded a corner _.  _ A silver head popped into view but she took a quick step back before it turned in her direction.  _ “Oi, Nee-chan, where are you, anyway? I can sense a barrier―”  _

“Mind your business,” she hissed. She waved her hand, a motion he’d recognize even so far away. “I’m busy. See ya’.”

She heard something that sounded like a grumble, but his voice drifted away. If he truly wanted to―and maybe he had already―he would ask Urue or come himself, but she put enough trust in him to leave her alone where it counted, and so far he hadn’t overstepped. Small blessings for a sibling she’d never asked for.

She’d followed the path Sesshoumaru had taken when he’d left her in the cave, curiosity getting the better of her. Yet as Kagura peered around the rock, once again catching sight of that silver hair, she still found herself a little surprised by Sesshoumaru leaning up against the side of the castle, perched on a railing and staring down at the castle below. She glanced down, following his line of sight as best she could, catching sight of the mess she’d made, multiple bodies picking through the rubble. She’d have to join them soon enough, she knew, hoped her collection hadn’t been crushed beneath the stones.

Tearing her gaze away she turned back to the moody dog. He couldn’t have been waiting for her, and he hadn’t turned to look at her, but she doubted he was unaware of her presence, she was only unsure if he’d heard her speaking. She debated simply leaving him to his own devices, but then she took another glance at the fan, her curiosity getting the better of her and she stepped out from behind the rock.

The sound of her feet scraping against the ground finally garnered his attention and he turned his head slowly. She crossed her arms inside her sleeves and gave him the haughtiest face she could muster as she stopped a few feet away. He gave her one long once over before he turned back to the spectacle below.

“You’re healed.”

Kagura pursed her lips. If he expected her to thank him, then… “I am.”

“The crows haven’t gone yet.”

She wasn’t sure if that was meant to be a warning, did he think she would go down and chase them out? Even if she had the energy she wasn’t all that interested in terrorizing the younger brother any more than she already had.

“It isn’t quite sunrise,” she said, picking at the lapel of the hanten as she leaned up against the railing more than twice his arm’s length away from him.

He made a sound of affirmation, still not looking at her, though she noticed that his eyes had turned marginally to the left, probably looking at her in his peripherals without wanting to make it obvious. She stifled a laugh at the juvenile behavior, but the longer the silence stretched on, the longer he spent ignoring her gaze on the side of his face, the more irritated she got.

“So am I to take all this as an apology?” she finally snapped, brandishing the fan between them. She opened it, twirling it in her hand. He blinked but still didn’t look at her.

“You can take it however you like.”

She supposed that was the closest she’d get to a yes. 

“Fine. I accept your apology.”

His head snapped in her direction, his eyes narrowed, but she stared right back at him, her eyebrows raised, silently daring him to deny it or take it back. It was several seconds before he rolled his eyes and turned away again, conceding.

She almost snapped at him, an insult ready on her tongue, but she quickly bit it back. The sky was slowly lightening, a lighter shade of grey than before, the stars beginning to fade. The muted hue cast odd shadows on his face, washing away his colors; the marks on his face nearly black, his usually vibrant eyes clouded, and without any light to reflect his silver hair was left lifeless, muddied and flat. She wondered if he preferred the lack of light, if the bland and colorless thing before her was what he wished to be, always so closed off and silent. 

The sky lightened a few shades as she watched him, and while his irritation at her blatant staring was nearly palpable, she found that she much preferred the change on him. The light bringing warmth to his face. 

She’d always known him to be stubborn, as pigheaded as his brother despite their supposed differences, and while she didn’t doubt that the meager years they’d been apart hadn’t changed him, she still knew she couldn’t expect much more from him than what he’d already given. Even that had been more than she would have thought him capable of. 

With a sigh and a shake of her head, decision made, she started: “I went to Yomi―”

“I don’t care.” He hadn’t even bothered to look at her. Ass.

She tutted, leveling him with a dull glare. “Too bad, I’m telling you.” Not truly, but enough to set his mind at ease. She turned away to tuck her hands deeper into her sleeves, holding the coat closed in front of her chest. “I went to Yomi to resurrect a god.”

“My mother already explained,” he interrupted, doing his best to make it clear that he wasn’t interested in what she had to say: his gaze off somewhere else and his left shoulder angled in such a way to keep her from seeing his face. Of course his mother had said something, the old bitch had no reason to keep it a secret. Kagura supposed that leaving it at that would leave well enough alone, but then he turned, not meeting her eyes but enough for her to see his profile. “Though she did not say why you would do such a thing.”

Alright, maybe not so uninterested after all. Maybe the guilt had gone to his head, making him particularly chatty.

“After I―after I came back, I couldn’t control my powers as much as I would have liked, I’m sure you remember.” She gave him a look that he pointedly ignored. His apparent interest only going so far. “I went to the shrine at Ise, looking for a wind god to help me.” She swallowed. Here, the lie began: “I didn’t find any wind god, but I did find a fan I liked and decided to take it.” There hadn’t been any decision, she’d known better, it’d been a subconscious impulse. “You can imagine how well  _ that  _ went over.”

He said nothing, but he was watching her from the corner of his eye, listening. With a sigh, she continued.

“After that a wind god found  _ me,  _ told me someone else would come after me and that if I wanted to avoid the consequences I’d do him the favor of bringing his nephew back from hell.”

He’d said he didn’t care, yet― “It would have been simpler to kill you.” 

She snorted. “So you’d think, but I wasn’t like I was in a place to question it, especially after seeing how powerful he was,” she said with a snort. “We went to your mother because the other option was the gate guarded by those two statues, and you can imagine why I didn’t want to go that way.” Though looking back on it, she wondered if the guardians would have taken orders if she’d simply told them to allow her passage. Maybe that had been another of Naraku’s tests, she doubted Hakudoushi had known. “I didn’t know who she was until I saw her face and asked about you.”

“You asked?”

“Why wouldn’t I? I wanted to know if she was some secret sister or somethin’.” Or a wife. “And it’s not like I  _ meant  _ to screw her over, things just… got complicated.”

He turned to her fully, one eyebrow raised as he leaned against the wall. 

“You ain’t supposed to leave hell once you’re there,” she said, “but nobody told me exactly what the fuck that meant, nearly lost my hand.”

At that he did look at her earnestly, a questioning line between his brows as he glanced down at the fabric she’d balled between her fists. She chuckled, pulled her hand out of her sleeve, waving at him with her left hand where Kagutsuchi had nearly burnt her to the bone.  _ Little brother,  _ Byakuya was probably thinking somewhere.

“Don’t worry, still got all five fingers.” She twirled them at Sesshoumaru for good measure, shaking the thought from her head.

He narrowed his eyes, following the movement with a predatory interest that was gone within the next second as he looked away again. She pulled her hand back into her sleeve quickly, the chill already setting into her fingers.

“And the god?”

“Alive and well, warm and cozy wherever the hell he is right now, I don’t know, I don’t care to keep track of him like that.” If she stretched her consciousness, prodded at that thread that connected them, she could find him, could sometimes tell where he was, what he was doing, hearing, smelling, and if they were together it could go as far as knowing the thoughts in his head if she really wanted to. A road that went both ways. 

She’d threatened him if he ever did it without her knowing, but there was some comfort in it, knowing she had someone to call if she needed it. As fussy as he could be, she’d never known him to shy away from a task. A trait they most definitely did not share. 

“―But he did help me like he was supposed to, and does whenever I need it. A decent enough bargain, I guess.” A stray thought wondered what would have become of him, had she failed in Yomi, or hadn’t gone to the shrine in the first place. She shook her head, the possibilities making her stomach roll.

“Is that who you were speaking to?”

“Hn?” Her head snapped up. He couldn’t have heard― 

“When you regained consciousness, you were speaking to someone.”

Oh. She vaguely remembered his voice, more a scream in her ear until he realized she was well enough to speak. She blinked. “Yeah, we can talk if we want to… usually him more than me.”

The sky shifted from gray to dull orange, almost burning and bringing a warm wind with it over the mountain. Kagura shivered, letting it caress her skin and taking some comfort in it, watching the colors in his hair change as the light slowly bled into the sky..

Out of the corner of her eye she spotted Urue take to the air from several floors below, flying several loops higher above the valley. Probably looking for her. Kagura pulled her arm from her sleeve, flipping the fan over her hand to create a gentle breeze that would send the bat off course, nothing dangerous, but enough to get the message across:  _ go back inside. _

Urue tumbled, catching herself in the column of air as her head whipped up towards them, spotting the dog beside her. She let out an indignant screech, one Kagura couldn’t necessarily fault her for, but she didn’t have the energy to argue and with another twist of the fan sent a stronger eddie that would force her down. Urue didn’t have the energy or spite enough to fight against the wind, and reluctantly glided back into an open window.

“That thing obeys you.” A statement, though she knew it to be a question. Of course he wouldn’t just ask what he wanted to know.

“She does.” 

Sesshoumaru glanced at her, probably irritated, but Kagura didn’t care to indulge whatever line of questioning he wanted to voice but refused to. She shook her head, spotting what had set Urue off in the first place: the group of crows hobbling through the main yard towards the gate. The one she’d maimed slung between his brother and the uninjured kotengu, the other limping along behind them. Between the two of them, the crows were able to take to the air once they’d crossed out of the gate, their wing beats audible even so high up as they struggle to keep themselves above the ground. She couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it; more than a little pleased with herself despite the fact that there was still a chill in her bones.

Kagura watched them go, black spots against the grey horizon disappearing into the distance and finally beyond the valley. Beside her, Sesshoumaru made a noncommittal sound, and once they were out of sight she glanced at him only to find him staring at her, his eyes nearly the same color as the dawn sky.

She looked him over, confused. “...what?”

“You are…” He took a breath, his gaze never leaving her face even as he seemed to struggle with the next word, “...powerful.”

She wasn’t sure if she should take that as a compliment, as hesitant as he’d been to voice it, so she simply answered with a slow nod.

“You sought me out four years ago in order to defeat Naraku,” he continued, slowly, carefully. 

“I did.”

She had a guess as to where his line of questioning was going, but wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of helping him along. If he wanted to know something he could just come out and say it. She’d already given him more than he deserved today.

His eyes narrowed, picking up on her disposition, and she wondered if he’d simply decide to drop the subject, but then his expression softened and he looked back towards the sea.

“I once asked why you wouldn’t kill him yourself,” he said. “You never answered.”

The sky suddenly went yellow, the sun having finally breached the horizon, but Kagura found herself fiddling with the threads inside her sleeve, her gaze stuck on the roof tiles far below, still dark green and murky in the mountain’s shadow. Idly, she wondered if she prefered him all fangs and snarling, at least then she could respond in kind.

There had been the stray thought or two, before she’d arrived, the idea of seeing him again, the possibility of his presence revealing old scars that hadn’t quite healed, just more scabs to pick at. A daunting possibility, given the Sesshoumaru she’d remembered. She’d pushed the thoughts away, not letting herself get too caught up in the fantasy that he’d be anything more than barely civil. She’d hardly considered them friends when she’d left him the last time, nothing more than two beings who’d shared a poignant moment or two. 

Maybe the years truly had changed him. Or the girl, his little human softening the stone heart of a daiyoukai.

She heard him inhale when he opened his mouth and realized she’d been staring at him too long, so before he could say anything else she made a decision.

“Naraku wasn’t stupid, a coward, definitely, but never stupid,” she said with a sigh, leaning her folded arms up against the railing. “He designed this body, knowing what I would be capable of, knowing how I would act under his… thumb. I think he’d hoped I’d die, that first night that he sent me out to fight your brother, would have made things easier for him, but…” she snorted, “I’ve always been better than that.”

Now he was pointedly not looking at her, his eyes stuck on something just outside, whether it was for her comfort or for the pretense of his nonchalance she didn’t know. She wanted to laugh at his picture perfect stoicism, but thought better of it.

She’d told Inuyasha and his humans because they were the piteous type, always with their hearts on their sleeves, and because it hadn’t mattered, she’d kept enough secrets for them to know hers wouldn’t be used against her, would be more a help than a hindrance, but… she’d never had those delusions with the man sitting beside her. Pity would have done her little, his only concern himself and his aspirations, and while her initial offer of exchange hadn’t gone as she’d hoped, at least she hadn’t been wrong. And no wonder, seeing where he’d gotten his attitude from.

“He designed this body,” she said again, she turned to rest her cheek against her folded arms, “but he wasn’t stupid.” 

Malicious and overconfident and calculating. Always with a contingency in place. Always with some devious new way to invent suffering, to prolong his scheming. Always always always plotting something new that was bound to fail. Only saved by his own cowardice. But never stupid.

“He ripped my heart from my chest before I’d even said my first words―”

A pain she could still feel, the tightness in her breast, the pressure stopping her breath and stilling the blood in her veins, that phantom pain that leached from the empty space between her ribs and into every nerve in her body, leaving her gasping and heaving and paralyzed. The pain itself was manageable, she’d certainly suffered worse, but it was the fear that gripped her more than anything. The inability to fight, to do anything but clutch at her breast with a silent scream as she wavered on the precipice of what felt like death, her own body rioting against her, every cell screaming in terror. 

“―held it in his fist and squeezed whenever I got too mouthy.” 

She supposed that had been the true intent, her death had never mattered to him, only her fear.

A shiver wracked her frame, a ghost more than the cold, but she wrapped the cloth tighter around her shoulders, suddenly feeling very tired.

“You never said.”

She hummed and kept her gaze down. “Would it have changed anything?”

She knew the answer without even needing to ask the question, but said it anyway, gleaning some satisfaction in the subtle way his breath stilled in his lungs for the briefest second. Maybe he swallowed, and she might have smiled if not for the way her eyes burned when she blinked. 

He didn’t say anything, and she turned her head just enough to look up at him from beneath her lashes. He stared at her, fully turned towards her, furrow between his brows and his eyes dark despite their brightened surroundings. There was something in his expression she couldn’t quite place, and she wondered what thought had passed through his head to bring it on. 

“It wouldn’t have,” she finally answered for him. “I’ve never been stupid enough to think that running to you with tears in my eyes would have gotten me anything but loathing from you.”

His eyes softened and he turned away, his chin dipping in an almost imperceptible nod. 

She shouldn’t have taken as much satisfaction from his acquiescence as she did. She struggled to keep the smirk off her lips. Vindication four years too late.

The sun’s rays crested the mountain’s peak, dragging soft lines across the sky and streaking his silver hair with strands of warm gold, almost enough to chase the chill from her bones, but not quite. She needed rest, to curl in on herself beneath a warm blanket, beside a fire. She glanced at him, the fur lining his shoulder, wondered how―no, she supposed she’d have to settle for the cluttered carriage and a pile of discarded cloth. 

“My people are still here.” A rhetorical question. She could feel them, huddled together down below somewhere, probably listening to Momiji’s bitching. 

“They’ve been given new lodgings.” Good, he’d understood her meaning. New lodging meant they could stay, meant  _ she  _ could stay. Despite whatever had happened between them the night before, she found herself not wanting to leave just quite yet.

Kagura pulled herself up onto the railing, swinging her legs over the otherside mimicking his stance even as she let her feet dangle in the open air.

“I suppose I’ve pestered you long enough,” she said, pushing herself off so that she barely clung to the weathered timbers. “I’ll let you get back to your pondering or whatever it is you were doing.”

There was a pause, a quick intake of breath, and then:

“You leaving?”

She stopped, eyes going wide as she struggled to keep her own breath even. He’d asked her that before… hadn’t he?

“No. I just…” She shook her head. “I’ll stay. I’m just tired.” 

She looked back at him, barely a glance, but enough to see the flash of something that might have been relief flash across his features. Barely there, but her heart stuttered, and she froze, gripping the railing with her lips parted in shock as she stared at him. He bristled under her gaze, golden eyes luminous and reflecting the warm sky. She blinked, a chuckle erupting from her throat and earning her a quirk of his brow.

“You know,” she hummed, smiling, “you shouldn’t talk to me like this so much, I’ll start to think you’re being kind.”

His eyes went a little wider and he turned away with a huff, but whatever he said next was lost to the wind as she threw herself from her perch down to the castle down below, the last she saw of him the silhouette against the rising sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate dialogue heavy chapters but tbh one of the biggest problems I have with big ensemble stories is that certain characters just don’t know things… esp Sess, but that’s mostly because he doesn’t talk to anyone… for the longest running side character he really don’t know shit about anything
> 
> Anyway, do y’all like more action? Originally there was going to be a lot more in this but I just kept cutting it and cutting it down, so its a much quieter fic than i intended, but lemme know lol


	10. Drift

By the time she’d found the room they’d been put up in, Momiji and all the rest had settled down, which meant that before she could even think about a peaceful rest, she had to go through them:

There was Urue’s scolding.

Whining from Momiji: “I still can’t believe you! I only managed to salvage  _ one _ of the kanzashi Jiu Feng gave me! Do you realize how―”

Prodding from Achara: “That wound did look awful―”

Congratulations from Okiyo: “Those birds had it coming, I’m just glad it was you who―”

Gushing praise from Hotaru: “Brilliant, incredible, amazing, spectacular―”

And finally a gruff nod from Younousuke while Tekari peeked out from underneath a thick blanket.

“Would all of you just shut the hell up?” she grumbled, kicking out a space for herself on the floor. Whatever they had managed to find had been strung across the room haphazardly, the tatami below obscured by all manner of cloth and masks and makeup and jewelry, not all of which she recognized, which meant Momiji had been more than a little indulgent in her scavenging. “I’m goin’ to sleep, so I’d appreciate it if you could all keep your fucking mouths shut for  _ once _ .”

The threat earned her some grumbles and eye rolls, but Momiji shuffled her brother and the fox out to continue their digging, leaving Achara and Tekari behind to quietly sort through the mess. Kagura threw herself to the floor, pulling a discarded robe over her head while Urue found a comfortable spot in the rafters above her, ensuring that no one else would bother her. 

It seemed she only needed to shut her eyes before she was thrust into a dream, one she couldn’t quite grasp, but might have had before, the colors too vivid, voices too loud, moving too quickly; the beginnings of a storm, thunder rolling in as the sky went dark, shocked by lightning as she was pulled up and up into the maelstrom; she went happily, letting herself be lulled in the calm as she rushed through the clouds, raindrops and ice crystals dancing around her eyes, a rainbow of colors refracted despite the rolling darkness of the storm until she was flung above the clouds; too quick, her head spun, the images fragmented in a world of blinding light; towering crimson pillars thick as the oldest trees, the clouds below all purples and reds above the cyclone as she hung suspended surrounded by gleaming teeth in smiling mouths; someone was speaking, muffled as if underwater, she felt them pull at her, tugging, but when she turned her head it was dark; the storm gone but something rushing in the inky darkness, a stampede, shadows pulsing; two points of warm light gleaming from the smoke and what sounded like snarling…

By the time she opened her eyes again, she couldn’t remember what that had been.

A solitary candle was the only thing that lit the room when she woke, Tekari working diligently by its light to mend one of the robes that had been rescued, the instruments huddled shivering by her side. Kagura turned over onto her shoulder to watch the girl work, shaking off sleep but not yet ready to leave her self made cocoon. Above her, Urue was the same, wrapped up in her own wings and swaying silently.

“Everyone went out a few hours ago,” Tekari finally said and Kagura sighed for having been found out. “They left some snacks for you.”

Probably Achara, Kagura thought as she pulled herself to sit up, rolling her shoulder to be sure that it had fully healed. There was only the residual ache, the reknit muscles bunched too tight and needing to stretch. But the girl was right, beside her there was a small tray with a bowl of rice and what she assumed was soup, a cup with tea that looked like it had long gone cold. At least it was something, would hold her over nicely until she found something a bit more filling. She left the tea but sipped the soup while she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, acclimating to the chill that set to her skin once she pulled herself out from under the covers.

The piles of rescued goods had grown, lazily discarded about the room and covered in dust, some damp, most likely from snow that had melted into the debris. She spotted several of her own kosode strung around and laying haphazardly on the floor, she only managed the energy to stand to poke through everything with her foot, taking stock of what had been found as she cradled the soup bowl in her palm. 

“Are you feeling better?”

She gave the girl a gruff hum in response.

Shadows flickered around the room, the night long having set in. She supposed she  _ could _ go join the others; thinking it over, though, she had little interest in being the center of attention so soon. She’d already made a spectacle of herself, and wasn’t quite ready to face the pompous golden eyed stares she was sure to get if she stepped foot in the main hall.

Instead, she sipped her soup and nibbled at her rice as she picked through the piles of cloth, cataloguing as she went, organizing everything into smaller piles of what belonged to who. Tekari continued her work and Urue watched her silently as she preened her wings. Kagura didn’t care much for what had been saved of hers, robes that she’d stolen or scavenged that had been altered by Tekari, jewelry that had been gifted by some patron or a lord or some other whatever-title she hadn’t cared to remember. Things she could easily do without and would have pawned if given the chance anyway.

But the taller those seven little piles became, the more anxious she became, realizing what  _ hadn’t  _ been found.

She pressed a hand between her breasts, feeling for the shard of glass that hung around her neck. A foolish thing to keep, but she didn’t have the heart to discard it, and leaving it lost didn’t sit quite right, a niggling discomfort between her shoulder blades.

Feeling a little unnerved and her chore done, she dropped onto her makeshift bed with a sigh. She fiddled with her sleeves until her eyes caught the shimmer of silver beneath the balled up robe she’d used for a blanket. The fan Sesshoumaru had―presumably―given her. He hadn’t denied that he’d meant for her to get it, but there was still the question of whether he’d chosen it himself; a guard made of steel, the paper all swirling silver and gold… it seemed ostentatious enough for his taste, though she couldn’t quite picture him picking through whatever they kept locked away in their vaults to choose something so on the nose.

“That’s new,” Urue whispered from above, “quite lovely.”

Kagura nodded. “It was a gift.”

The bat made a discontented sound, probably realizing the implication and Kagura couldn’t help but chuckle as she unfolded the fan and closed it again several times for good measure before finally snapping it shut with a grumble and tucked herself into her robes.

For now she’d stay inside, wrapped up and warm, but she didn’t look forward to the digging she’d have to do in the morning.

* * *

His mother tittered, his uncle laughed, Jaken grumbled, the kit stared, and for some asinine reason his cousins thought he cared at all for their commentary. He didn’t need to justify himself to the, but his mother’s niggling staring was getting more than irritating.

He’d gone after her because she’d torn down the barrier. He’d pulled her from the water because seeing her drown would be a waste. He’d taken her to the hot springs because he’d been irritated by her shivering and the blood. He’d given her new clothes because she’d be left with nothing but rags once she was done. He’d ordered Karei to bring her a fan because she’d needed one. And he’d asked about Naraku because all of those things together had left him reminiscing and wondering about the past, curiosity loosening his tongue.

In truth, her confession hadn’t been all that illuminating. Naraku had always been known for his cruelty, the convoluted schemes he cooked up to prolong the suffering of his enemies. Still, the fact that he’d engineered such a punishment on his own creations irked Sesshoumaru more than he’d care to admit. He’d always assumed that her fear of Naraku had simply been his strength compared to hers, that if she faced him she would be struck down in a battle, not that she would never have the chance of one, that even the possibility of escape wasn’t even an option.

And even the thought of it―maybe even worse than the memory of her body eaten away by poison―of her gasping and clutching at her chest as she had that night on the beach, without a wound to mend, nothing but the emptiness in her chest smothering her―because even in that field she’d been calm―was infuriating, blood-boiling― 

And then she’d gone and disappeared for two nights.

He knew she was still in the castle, her scent still cloying in the air, her companions still attended the nightly feasts and performances, but Kagura herself had declined to make an appearance. 

If he wanted, he could simply go find her. But then that would only raise more questions, would have her laughing at him for worrying over her―she’d been fine the morning they’d spoken, he saw no reason for her to seclude herself away, his mother and the others were more amused than insulted by the show she’d put on, and he thought he’d already made it clear that he wouldn’t raise a hand to her again.

Irritated, and irritated  _ about _ being irritated, he found himself faced with something peculiar.

He had to squint against the afternoon sun, the electric and nearly blinding blue sky far too violent for those who fared better in the dark. The icy wind bit at his cheeks and stung his nose when he inhaled, burning all the way down his throat and in his lungs. With all the others having retreated to their rooms for the day, the castle was quiet, muffled conversation lilted through the halls, but it was the harsh chirp of birdsong that piqued his interest, children’s laughter, and the sound of stone scraping over stone. 

The stewards had tidied the destruction as best they could, at least enough for the yard to be serviceable, but the damage had been significant, and there was still a sizable pile of stone and timbers left behind that wouldn’t be removed until the spring melt. And at the top of that pile― 

“What are you doing?”

Kagura’s head snapped up from where she crouched over the ruins, cheeks and nose nearly as red as her eyes, ankle deep in the snow that had fallen the night before, and an incredulous look on her face.

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

He wanted to say making a fool of herself, but unsure of her exact intention, he decided against it.

Sesshoumaru turned to look over his shoulder, across the yard the kit and his companions were involved in some game with several of the younger pups, those who had no human form, though it didn’t seem to make a difference as they played some hunting game and kicked loose packed snow at each other. None of them paid him any mind as he leapt off the second floor veranda to land at the foot of the debris. Kagura eyed him, but didn’t move from her position, one hand braced against an icy rock.

“The stewards will see to the clean up and reconstruction,” he said, making the only logical assumption. He had to squint to look up at her. She wore a different coat than the one he’d procured for her, but she looked better than she had the last they’d spoken; well-rested at least.

She laughed. “You’ve got a real high opinion of me if you think I’m out here cleanin’ up the mess.”

Emboldened by her mocking tone, he took one firm leap and landed beside her. She flinched and stood, raising a brow at him as she tossed away a piece of timber he hadn’t noticed her holding. It fell to the bottom of the mountain of the wreckage with a loud clatter before it finally splintered against the gravel. He crossed his arms between his sleeves and returned her stare, a tact that was apparently too much, as she let out an exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes.

“I’m looking for something,” she said, ignoring him to crouch among the stones again, pressing her hand into a gap. His eye twitched. He watched the top of her head and suddenly there was a great hiss erupting from inside the heap of rubble, it only lasted a few seconds, and then Kagura stood, shaking her hand of bits of snow, her knuckles red from the chill.

“Willing to freeze again so soon?” 

She glanced up at him from beneath her lashes and then made a gesture with her fan, telling him to step back. He did so, a little reluctantly, and she summoned a precise gust strong enough to knock the stones from the top of the pile, sending them tumbling off the side while the smaller ones went sailing clean over the wall and past the barrier into the forest.

“I’ll be fine,” she huffed, returning to her crouched position and repeating the same motions. “It ain’t like I’m gonna’ die from it.”

No, she wouldn’t. But the fact that she’d nearly come very close to it three nights ago should have given her some pause. Then again, she’d always been stubborn. 

Kagura paid him little mind as she continued her search, her method more than a little unsophisticated, evidenced by the multiple smashed and splintered trees on the other side of the wall. She’d obviously been at it for some time, and  _ obviously _ hadn’t cared that her method had added more cracks in the wall, she’d already caused plenty damage, a little more hardly meant anything. At least she was keeping most of the debris on the outside.

It was a monotonous task, crouch, stand, clear the stones, repeat. He watched the repetitive motions with an impassive eye, stepping away every time it was needed until he found a safe space behind her; he had nothing pressing to attend to, nor anyone else that he particularly wanted to see. At least her quest was some degree of entertaining, her method was intriguing, as was the hope that sparked in her eyes everytime she held her breath and felt the air whispering through the cracks in the stones, only to be quickly replaced by mounting frustration that slowly intensified after each cycle, manifesting in more damage to the walls and trees beyond it. The children were still running circles around the yard, tossing snow and claws at each other as they laughed and yipped and paid little mind to Kagura’s endeavor. 

The sun was only a few fingers above the horizon when she suddenly jumped up, leaping to a spot only a step or two above him and shoving stones out of her way with renewed enthusiasm as she crouched amongst the debris.

“There!” she yipped, punching her hand clean through a splintered timber and snapping it in half, he smelled it before her knuckles came back bloody. His stomach lurched and he moved without thinking, meeting her as she whipped around and brandished her prize between them. She’d been too excited to temper her fist, her nerves numbed by the cold, and now she sported several shallow cuts along her knuckles, welling with blood, but he could see no splinters in the wound as he cradled her hand in his and brought it to his face, a good thing, because otherwise he’d have to― 

Had her face been so red a moment ago?

She stared at him with wide eyes, her lips parted, she swallowed audibly and it dawned on him what exactly he was doing. 

“You’ve a penchant for bleeding.”

She nodded briskly and he loosened his hold, making the action as casual as he could. She slowly pulled her hand back with the thing still curled in her fist. He recognized it for what it was now, made of what looked to be pure gold with a dazzling blue silk tassel looped around her wrist.

“A fan...?”

She nodded, looking past his shoulder as she cradled her hand against her chest.

“...Quite the effort for a simple thing.”

“It’s, um…” She’d never been one for stumbling over her words, but she said the next part so quickly they all ran together. “It was a gift.”

She held it to her breast almost tenderly, her gaze still flitting across anything but him. There was an odd look in her eye, he appraised the fan a a little more critically, the odd way the tarnished gold of the guard caught in the light, a pattern he didn’t recognized etched into it, the ethereal glimmer of the silk in the icy sunlight, the way it seemed to glow in her hand. No ordinary paper and metal, and she held it fondly against her breast, so it wasn’t too difficult to make the assumption:

“From your god.”

Kagura blinked and quickly glanced up at him, her fist tightening. “...Something like that.”

Ah. So that’s how it was.

Sesshoumaru turned away from her and leapt from the pile of rubble, leaving her staring after him, dumbfounded.

“Y―yo!” she called as he went to walk away, and he heard the sound of pebbles shifting as she slid down to join him, falling into step with him though he didn’t acknowledge it. “What was that face for?”

“You’ve found your trinket,” he drawled, “then I’m to assume that you’ll stop making more of a mess than you already have.”

She snorted. “And here I thought I was helping, seein’ as I did clear  _ some  _ of the mess… the piles smaller now, don’t you think? I’m just wonderin’ why you all of a sudden―” 

Kagura lightly stepped in front of him, causing his step to falter, a momentary pause, a distraction that gave just enough of an opening―there was a shout, more of a scream, and―Something cold struck the side of his head.

Everything went deathly silent; the temperature plunged, and even the wind seemed to hold its breath. Kagura’s eyes went impossibly wide, her mouth falling open as she eyed the side of his face in shock that must have been mirrored in his own expression. He wasn’t injured, the blow had barely smarted, but the wet cold stung his skin as the clumps of snow slid down his neck and beneath the lapel of his kosode, a pinch of it getting stuck inside his ear and wetting his hair. Sesshoumaru turned from the waist, not daring to turn at the neck in case the movement disturbed the precarious bits of ice clinging to him.

He spotted Shippou first, front and center, wide eyed and his tail fluffed in terror, his companions mirroring his fear, the two pups they’d been playing with whined, tails tucked between their legs and shivering. A larger boy cowered behind the kit, and Sesshoumaru knew without question that he’d been the one to let the snowball loose, but he did have to concede an admiration for the boy’s bravery, his arm shielding the culprit despite knowing the sound beating they would all receive.

Sesshoumaru took a step―

“ _ Run!!” _

They scattered at the boy’s scream, several slamming into each other with pained grunts in their haste to escape; the pups unsure what action to take, running in circles and eyeing him as if they should throw themselves to the ground, belly up in submission, before thinking better of it and bolting into the castle while their co conspirators scaled the walls and railings and disappeared into the shadows with puffs of smoke. 

The wind whistled, and he had the urge to give chase, the energy curling in his tendons, readying to strike, and he would have if not for a strange sound. He turned, catching sight of Kagura shielding her mouth with her fan―the one he’d given her―her shoulders trembling and her eyes crinkled at the corners.

She was― _ laughing  _ at him?!

His lip curled in a snarl. It had the opposite effect of what he’d intended. 

A full blown laugh erupted from her lips, though she tried to hide it behind the fan, she clutched her stomach and he would swear that there were tears in her eyes.

“I fail to see what’s so funny,” he bit out, fangs clenched together tightly.

Kagura just shook her head, screwing her eyes shut as her laughter faded, leaving her trembling silently and trying to regain her composure behind her shield, but everytime she opened her eyes to look up at him the giggles returned, leaving her breathless and shaking. It didn’t stop, the process repeating until her mirth began to warm the air and his anger dripped away, until he was only vaguely inconvenienced by the cold stinging his cheek and neck. It was only a little consoling that she had seemed to take his words from the other night seriously, though he almost wished she hadn’t if only to make his fury feel justified. 

Finally, she composed herself, having to bite her lips between her teeth to keep herself from breaking again as she stepped up to him, eyeing the side of his face, probably red from the cold.

“You―” she snorted, “you good?”

He wouldn’t deign that with a response, choosing to glare at her instead, plotting the ways he’d skin the little bastards. Maybe once he caught the kit he’d make a hat out of― 

“No one saw,” she said, circling him, edging closer, just a hair’s breadth outside of his arm’s reach. He stilled. “If that’s what you’re worried about, those idiots were the only ones out here besides us.” 

That did little to assuage the grudge he was cultivating.

Kagura chuckled and took a step forward, eyeing him warily. Sesshoumaru stiffened, his current disposition unsure about someone being so close in his personal space but unwilling to accommodate the intrusion. Kagura didn’t seem to mind, still eyeing the side of his head with her lip pulled between her teeth. She raised a brow, meeting his gaze for the briefest second before she came to some sort of decision.

He almost flinched when she reached up, her sleeve pulled over her fist, and dabbed at the wetness clinging to his skin, the chunks of ice that had stuck to his hair and clothes. He watched her, stunned, the pressure of her hand warm despite the layers that separated them, the cold leached away with every swipe. He was left standing there, frozen in shock as if he’d only just been struck, while she paid his questioning gaze hardly any mind, her gaze stuck on her task. 

The back of her knuckles brushed across his ear lobe and he flinched, breaking the spell.

Kagura pulled her hand back and stepped away. She blinked up at him and looked like she might start to laugh again, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

“Well, at least you look fine, not like a child’s  _ snowball _ could injure you,” she snickered, the smirk on her face growing into a self satisfied grin, “though I can’t say the same about your attitude.”

He sneered, an insult on the tip of his tongue, but before he’d even taken the breath to voice it he blinked, her smile giving him pause, the briefest second that caused her to laugh again, amused with herself over her little joke. She waved a hand at him.

“Oh, don’t look so upset,” she rolled her eyes and waved a hand at him as she turned away. “Come on, I don’t plan on staying out here forever.”

Sesshoumaru watched her back, the haughty quirk in her jaw as she walked, the assuredness of her steps despite the uneven ice and slush, heading towards the veranda. So confident, as she walked away though it hadn’t been that long ago that she’d flinched away from him in fear. The difference was stark and left his mind wandering, but then she was walking up the steps, and stopped at the last to turn back to him, that self assured smile still plastered to her face.

“You gonna’ stay out there and freeze or what?” she called back, mocking his earlier admonishment.

His feet moved before his mind, and by the time he’d realized what he was doing she’d already turned away again, continuing on her way up another flight of stairs and pausing at the top to check if he was following. He thought he heard her chuckle, the sound echoing down to him as he took each slow and steady step; the air warmed the higher he went, stinging the numb and frozen skin of his face. He crested the stairs and spotted her walking off down a branching hall, the low sun glowing orange, warm beyond the outer paper screens and casting long shadows against the opposite wall, Kagura’s figure disappeared into shadow every time she passed behind a pillar, the subsequent return of light nearly blinding as it lit up the shimmering threads sewn into her coat. She finally slowed at a fork in the hall, and turned into an empty room that overlooked the valley.

Sesshoumaru stopped at the threshold, watching as she opened one of the doors to the outside, letting in an icy breeze. He wondered if that was a comfort, if she cared at all for the chill or if the sensation of the wind dancing across her skin was worth more than staying warm. 

“So many rooms, and hardly any get used,” she mumbled, turning away from the window to kneel down and fiddle with the hibachi in the center of the room. It would do little, with the door open, but he supposed its presence was more about the pretense than anything, even when she revealed a teapot that he hadn’t noticed tucked behind the stove. It sloshed, heavy with water as she stoked the coals and set it on top to warm. Kagura looked up at him from beneath her lashes, eyes cut by the sun’s rays, gleaming like the red hot coals she’d just stoked as she warmed her hands over the stove.

“I found this place yesterday, figured you’d want to warm up a little, considerin’...” She pulled her lips between her teeth, trying to contain another fit of laughter at his expense. He found he didn’t mind it so much, now, but― 

She tsked. “You ain’t gotta’ be so mad all the time, it was just an offer.”

He snorted and rolled his eyes, and she looked like she might say something else, but the words drifted away, replaced by a small smile as he stepped inside and softly slid the door shut behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What are they about to do? Talk shit, probably. 
> 
> Anyway, hey all, my city is on lockdown because of the coronavirus (my country is not, because we’re the worst! :))) anyway), despite that I have had very little motivation to get this chapter because of you know… all the dread. Hope you all are safe, washing your hands and social distancing!! 


	11. Gloriole

Now that he’d sat down across from her, he had the sinking suspicion that she hadn’t had a plan when she’d urged him along, because now that they were both sitting silently, her illuminated by the warm orange rays of the sun and he seated in the dull shadow of the paper screen, she seemed unsure how to proceed. She eyed him warily, her chin raised as if appraising him as she poured herself a cup before she went to lean back against the wall.

“I ain’t gonna’ pour your tea for you,” she finally said, almost like an insult, she nodded at the teapot between them.

Sesshoumaru blinked. He hadn’t expected anything of the sort, but her adamant refusal was more than a little amusing.

“I had thought that was the implication when you insisted I join you.” He almost misspoke the last part, having almost said  _ follow,  _ and he would be loath to admit out loud that that’s what it had been, or that he’d done it without argument or reproach out of simple curiosity. He hadn’t been interested in  _ tea,  _ but if she wanted to make something of it, he could oblige. “You’ve fancied yourself as a host, isn’t it then your duty? Especially when treating your betters.”

“My  _ betters?”  _ She stared at him, incredulous, blinking slowly as if she hadn’t quite heard him, but her grin was still wide. She let out a sardonic laugh. “And what makes you think you fit in  _ that  _ category?” __

He sniffed lightly. There was no one else around. “Wasn’t it you who sought me out for my power?” 

“For your  _ strength, _ yes, but that was then and this is now,” she loudly slurped her tea, smirking at him over the rim of her cup. “I never said you were more  _ powerful  _ than me.”

“That is yet to be seen.”

Kagura chuckled, a tinkling thing, but she quickly hid it behind the guard of her fan, tapping it against her lip, the tea cup forgotten on the floor beside her. He found the pretense ridiculous, that she hid her laughter behind thin paper but shouted her insults with a wide open mouth. “Yet to be seen indeed.” 

“Stronger, then,” he said. He could concede that her abilities were certainly more utilitarian than his own, but would not let her believe that she so far outmatched him, he had no intention of fighting her, but even the implication of weakness rankled, and he would be remiss to allow her to continue such an insulting line of thought.

She laughed again, more a giggle. “Are you playing a game with me, Sesshoumaru?”

“What would be the use of that?”

“I wouldn’t know,” she hummed, finally dropping the fan and leveling a smirk at him, all red lips and white teeth. “But I’ll say I prefer you playful than whatever moody attitude you’ve usually got.”

He rolled his eyes. 

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you never participate in any of the nightly games, drinking or otherwise,” she snorted, and retrieved her cup, wrapping both hands around it, fingers intertwined as she kept smirking at him, one eyebrow raised.

“I’ve no interest in  _ games _ .” And even less in the games the guests liked to play, the foxes always wanted to play tricks, amusing to some extent, the performance of it, so long as he was not the fool being tricked. But the others had a penchant for making everything risque, nothing more than excuses for flirtation and petting. Most of his family shared his disposition and declined to participate, content to merely observe the undignified displays.

“Not even Go? I’d peg you for something boring and strategic like that, but it’s not very fun at parties.” She slurped at her tea again, loudly.

“That’s hardly the same.”

“You’ve got a fine face, you know,” she shook her head and laughed again, “but you’ve got no tact whatsoever.”

He ignored the compliment. What was the use of being tactful, she of all people should have known that much, given the way she always found a way to run her own mouth. He was content enough sitting there, oddly soothed by the sound of her laughter, but even her teasing would start to grate his nerves if she insisted on keeping it up.

“How about this, play a little game with me and then I’ll leave you to your sulking.” Sesshoumaru tucked his arms into his sleeves, waiting for her to continue. “I’ll tell you three things about myself, one will be a lie, you just have to choose which one.”

He quirked a brow, that hardly seemed like a worthwhile way to pass the time.

“It’s about strategy, isn’t it? You win if you’re a good liar, and better at detecting them,” she said, smiling at him expectantly. “No one else is around to eavesdrop, and it’s not like we’ll be sharing our deepest secrets, what’s the harm?”

She wasn’t wrong, and there was merit in the practice of telling lies and detecting them, but when he didn’t respond right away she must have taken his silence for apprehension.

“If you want, I’ll go first.”

Detecting a lie was easy enough, there was always the miniscule change in scent: the pooling of sweat when there was fear of being caught, the quickening of a heart beat, the faltering of a gaze. He wondered what the point was when the truths would be obvious. He nodded once, watching her expectantly and waiting for a misstep.

“I know how to play the koto.” She smiled, calm, gaze level with his. “I’ve never eaten meat.” No change, she blinked serenely. “And I have twelve toes.”

He glanced at her feet, where she had them tucked under her hip, covered in thick socks, then back up at her face, still smiling at him expectantly. It would make no sense if she had ten fingers and twelve toes. He glared at her, wondering why he’d agreed to this.

“You do not have twelve toes.”

“Correct,” she nodded and sipped her tea, “I made that one easy for you. Your turn.”

He wondered if he should be insulted, he didn’t need her to make it easier, but her truths had been rather innocuous regardless. He started the same way, keeping his face and posture calm. “I am two hundred years old. My left arm is not my own. Several of my markings are tattoos.”

Kagura narrowed her eyes, her gaze flicking over him and pausing on his arm and then his face. He kept his arms in his sleeves.

“Your arm, isn’t it?” 

He nodded, cocking his head to the side, wondering how she’d known so quickly. 

“Your left arm doesn’t have marks, and Kohaku told me about when you got it back, remember?”

Sesshoumaru raised his chin. He’d forgotten. He hadn’t had the tattoos replaced, hadn’t seen the need to do so just yet, but if even Kagura had noticed the lack of them he’d have to do so soon. But still, she shouldn’t be so nonchalant about― 

“I told you, no one’s around to eavesdrop, and it’s not like it matters much if anyone overhears a name, does it? No one needs to know unless you make it obvious,” she said, waving a hand. He supposed that was true enough, them having a previous acquaintanceship hardly held any consequence. He’d been furious with her the other night because of his fear of being found out, about Rin, but if there truly was no one listening then it made little difference where they aired their past and relationships. 

He inhaled and nodded at her to continue.

“Ok,” she inhaled, and spoke so quickly he nearly missed what she said next. “I killed the yourouzoku. The Dragon King asked for my hand. I have diverted a monsoon.”

He leaned forward minutely. Perhaps she was right, there was some merit to this little game of hers, of watching her and trying to decipher any changes in her posture, but she was quite good, and he supposed the lack of consequences made the lying a bit easier. Lying for fun was different than doing so to live. But still, he thought over what she’d said. He knew the wolf tribes had gone nearly extinct, but hadn’t heard how, hadn’t cared to know, if she’d done it of her own accord he’d be surprised, and he could see no reason why Naraku would have ordered them dead, but it was much too specific. Now, the Dragon King was hardly known as faithful, so Sesshoumaru would not be surprised if he had, and the oni had already made some sly comments about her companions and their histories he’d soundly ignored. The monsoon, he’d seen her powers, but something of that magnitude…

“The monsoon.”

Her smile widened. “Wrong.”

His eyes narrowed. He’d have to remember that for later, if she was truly capable of such a thing, he had severely underestimated her. He watched her face, the play of light across her features― 

“The wolves.”

She shook her head, grinning. “Wrong again. Though I’m a little flattered that you think the Dragon King would take such an interest in me.”

Not hard to imagine, but he felt some degree of trepidation knowing that she’d been the one to obliterate the wolves population. Chagrin, he realized, the more he thought it over, some divine karma that he at the time hadn’t thought to enact.

“Hn? What’s with the face?”

He looked back up at her, the two of them alone in the little room in a deserted part of the castle, he thought over the worth of telling her, and figured that it made no difference for the dead.

“The yourouzoku… accosted Rin.”

She raised her head, staring up at him from beneath her lashes, all amusement gone from her features as she searched his face, a furrow in her brow. 

“I’m surprised the rest have lived so long.”

“It meant little to me, at the time.”

“Well, if it means anything to you now, you’re welcome.”

She said it sincerely, no smile or twinkle in her eye, but he took little comfort in it. He hadn’t cared then, and would be remiss if he suddenly started to now. Kagura nodded once, and the little tug at the corner of her mouth returned.

“Your turn.”

Sesshoumaru thought it over, realizing that the point of the game wasn’t so much the ability to tell a lie, but how convincing the lie was and how unbelievable the truth could be. He could tell a simple lie, or a fantastical truth, and it would simply depend on her own assumptions of him which one she chose. Again, he smoothed his features and steadied his breathing.

“I am betrothed. I have eaten humans. Inuyasha nearly killed me once.”

The smile faded from her face, all amusement gone, and he wondered which statement was the true cause of it. She narrowed her eyes at him, gaze roving over him as she tried to read his posture. Perplexed, she leaned her head back against the wall, mouth pulled into a thin line.

“Maybe you’re better at this than I thought.”

“What is your guess?”

She licked her lip and he couldn’t help but follow the movement as she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.

“The humans.”

He felt the beginnings of a smirk.

“Wrong,” he said, feeling a little mischievous, waiting for her reaction. But nothing came, and he wasn’t sure why he felt surprised when her expression didn’t change, if he’d merely told her the weather. Maybe he’d been visiting the human village too often, but Kagura was unperturbed, maybe a little curious, and he realized that the apprehension he felt stemmed more from the realization of their similarities rather than any guilt or disgust he’d expected from her. Kagura cocked her head to the side with a snort and shook her head, her smile returning.

“You’re not engaged.”

To say he was more than a little disappointed, he’d hoped that she would assume the latter option. “Correct. How did you come to that conclusion?”

“If I’d guessed the other one it would have been too much of a compliment,” she said with a laugh, and reached for her cup again, taking a long and loud sip. “I’m curious how he got the better of you that badly, though.”

“I’d blinded him. He’d just discovered the windscar.” Even four years later, the insult still smarted.

“Ah, the infamous windscar.” She said it almost fondly. “If it’s any consolation he nearly killed me with it, too, the first time we met.”

Now he was the one to tilt his head, wondering how someone strong enough to control a summer storm could be felled by such an attack. 

“His girl was with him,” she said, shaking her head, “at the time her powers were enough to disrupt mine, if he himself hadn’t already been half dead he might have succeeded.”

She turned to glance out the open window, her skin warmed by the setting sun and her hair briefly tussled by the breeze. He felt the chill dancing across the skin of his cheeks, but she seemed unfazed, a certain giddiness present in her posture, as if she was expecting something, but she looked altogether comfortable leaned against the wall with the cup curled in her hands.

“I heard she’s back,” she said, speaking as if she was discussing the flavor of her tea. “I can’t imagine that the two of them are any less annoying than before.” He quirked a brow at her and she shrugged. “I saw Kohaku, a few months ago.”

He stared at her a moment, a little upset that the boy hadn’t told him, but Sesshoumaru didn’t respond. Just the mention of the miko had his hackles rising in annoyance, it’d been nearly a month since he’d last been in the village, but he already dreaded the reception he’d receive when he returned. Rin had a developed a penchant for chattering at him, but he could tolerate that much, at least she knew to keep her gossip to a minimum and the things she told him to the most important. The miko had no such tact, and would prattle at him about anything and everything, attempting to make family of him. Her husband, at least, knew better and kept a wary distance. Sesshoumaru let out a breath, barely a sigh, but Kagura noticed.

“What―”

“She calls me ‘Onii-san’.”

Kagura’s eyebrows rose slowly as she processed that. “Kagome calls you…”

One glance out of the corner of his eye had a guffaw erupting from her throat, nearly spitting tea in the process as her shoulders shook. 

“If you had said that earlier I would have thought you were lying!” She slapped a hand over her mouth and tried to stifle her giggles. He tolerated her laughter with a stern face, keeping his gaze level with a smudge on the wall behind her shoulder. It seemed an eternity before she calmed herself, breathing out silent chuckles.

“You an uncle yet?”

Sesshoumaru sniffed and glared at her, only to be met with another giggle. “The girl has only been back eight months.”

“ _ Soon  _ to be an uncle, then?” she clarified. “I can’t imagine it should take this long, considering how often they were throwing themselves at each other even back  _ then _ , made me want to puke just watching them. ‘Inuyasha!’ this, ‘Kagome!’ that, fucking irritating.”

“I tend to avoid their home for that very reason.”

She laughed again, scooting forward to pour herself another cup. “Well, at least it seems we all got what we wanted, didn’t we? In the end.”

He hummed, supposing she was right. When he’d gone after his brother that first time, searching for Tessaiga he hadn’t expected to lose his arm, or to wind up involved in Naraku’s schemes, to take a human girl under his wing, to give up what he’d believed what his birthright in order to seek out revenge over a slight, to break a sword all for― 

Kagura gasped, a soft little sound that piqued his ears and quickened his pulse. His eyes snapped up to see her clutching at her jaw, eyes screwed shut.

She coughed, and looked to be blinking away tears as she stuck her tongue out at him. “I left the pot on the coals too long.”

He blinked at her, as she tried to soothe her throat, the sound of her swallowing against the burn too loud in the little room. She looked more upset with herself than injured, rubbing at her neck as if she could simply scrub the sensation away. It was several seconds before she looked up at him again, a furrow in her brow.

“You… alright…?” Her fingers still lingered against her pulse. “Your eyes, got a little…”

“It’s nothing.” He’d been surprised, is all.

Kagura gave him a quizzical look and a long once over, as if she didn’t believe him. She opened her mouth to say something else, just as the sun dipped below the horizon, sucking all light out of the room save for the glow of the red hot coals in the stove, reflected and just as bright in her eyes. The temperature dropped just as quickly, the air no longer warmed by the sun, and there was a breath of silence, as if all life had gone out with the sun, both of them frozen in place, but then there was a shout, the sound of doors being thrown open, the castle reawakening with the darkness. Her hand fell away from her throat, and she reached for her cup again, tossing its contents out the window quickly before replacing it beside the stove.

“I suppose you’ll be expected somewhere else.” She stoked the coals, spreading them to douse the flames, but it only served to spread the heat with it. He hummed again, and reluctantly got to his feet and took a step forward, letting the subtle warmth dance over his skin. He realized only a little too late that he’d lingered too long when Kagura did the same. Her sleeves brushed his fur when she stood, her shoulder only inches from his chest, and the movement disturbing the air so that the only thing he inhaled was her scent, just as icy as the air outside, stinging the back of his throat when he inhaled. 

She blinked up at him, angling her chin, and he realized her height meant her hair would brush his nose if she stood any closer. Her gaze briefly flickered over his face and her eyes widened by a hair. 

“We should get going then.” She ducked her head and took a quick step back, going for the door, she paused at the threshold to look over her shoulder at him. In the dark, he could hardly differentiate the colors of her face.

The air warmed with her absence, the coals still hot near his knees, but he hardly felt the warmth as she stepped out into the darkened hall and disappeared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kagura: *exists*
> 
> Sess: Boy, sure hope this doesn’t awaken anything in me
> 
> I wasn’t originally going to write this scene, but I felt like I couldn’t disappoint, I had some snippets of scrapped conversations laying around that I still wanted to include in this fic, so here it is. Hopefully it’s just the right amount of lighthearted for the times. 
> 
> Again, I hope you’re all healthy and staying safe!


	12. ParaSelene

Every movement was measured, controlled; a form of motion she'd inherited at birth, a gift from the predecessor she scorned. Maybe Shinatobe would have bristled under the gaze of so many youkai, would have scorned such a performance, sneered at the enamored stares of her audience… but those maybies, the prejudices and memories, remained locked away in the shard of glass that hung around her neck, and it was Kagura who thrived.

In a better mood than she’d had in days, she danced her way across the floor to the tune of Achara’s flute, twirling her fan around and bringing a breeze beneath her sleeves, causing them to flutter in unison. 

A smile pulled at her cheeks, it had only been three nights, but the movement was welcome, pulling at her well healed shoulder as she raised her arm. Beneath that satisfying stretch there was still the buzz of anticipation in her veins, a giddiness that had seeped in and stayed put ever since the afternoon. She had hardly put any thought into what had caused it, but couldn’t help the flicker of  _ something  _ when she caught sight of a certain pair of golden eyes steadily watching her, following every movement. 

It seemed that golden stare was something she’d have to get used to, as it didn’t seem like he had any intention of stopping any time soon, whether he’d realized it or not. Of course  _ she’d _ noticed, had been hard pressed  _ not to,  _ with the way he’d slunk around like a shadow while she’d searched for her fan in the rubble. She’d expected some snide comments, and of course he’d delivered on that, but they’d been relatively tame, so far as insults went, but she’d squashed the traitorous thought that the poor dog had  _ missed  _ her, in her two nights of absence. Certainly, she’d rejected the idea until he’d reached for her hand.

The cuts would heal in a matter of minutes, but he’d still looked unnerved; his hand had been warm, clawed fingers gentle against her skin as he’d cradled her wrist. Regardless of what had happened only nights before, having him touch her so casually was something she hadn’t expected, and she’d felt her face heating, heart skipping a beat. Not that it hadn’t been unwanted, but…

She’d pushed her luck a little. And when she’d wiped the ice from his face he hadn’t even flinched, and it had taken maybe all of her willpower to keep from meeting the severe stare he’d been leveling at her, his gaze itching painfully on the side of his face until she’d made the unfortunate―or maybe not so, the knowledge might do her good later―discovery that even the most ornery dogs liked having their ears scratched. That much had made his pupils go wide, the breath still in his lungs, and she couldn’t help but wonder how he’d react if she’d dared to do more. She felt no guilt for the deep seated feeling of satisfaction she’d gleaned from making the ever so controlled Sesshoumaru flinch, but she did wonder how much she could abuse the little trick before he’d start snapping.

She would ignore the small tickle of anticipation that licked up her spine when she caught his gaze again, her dance coming to an end, she’d be stupid to let it get the better of her.

Kagura counted her steps until Achara and the instruments stopped playing. She sank into a slight bow―she  _ had  _ noticed the way his face scrunched up in irritation whenever she bowed too deeply―and rose to her feet just as quickly, would have escaped back into the crowd of onlookers if not for the imp stepping into her path, looking haughty as ever for someone that only came to her knee.

“What do  _ you _ want?”

His little beak crinkled into what she could only assume was a grimace, his arms folded into his sleeves, his muttered cursing nearly unintelligible over the din of conversation. “Rude woman! Follow me and don't ask questions!”

She gave Achara a glance over her shoulder and her friend shrugged; telling her to do whatever she wanted, the usual non committal response. As tightly wound as they were, they certainly had no problem watching Kagura make her own mistakes. Kagura shook her head and finally nodded at the imp to lead. He huffed and turned back, and from the corner of her eye she spotted the fox kit, looking up at her dolefully and sporting a sizable bump on the top of his head. The imp was nearly trampled and bowled over by the boisterous movements of one of the circles they passed, he screeched and Kagura resisted the urge to kick him out of her way, figuring that would be uncouth, and she still didn’t know what the hell he’d been sent to fetch her for.

He led her to the head of the room, where Sesshoumaru and his mother sat, he nonchalantly reclined into his furs and she cuddled up close against the flank of a large silver dog, a blue moon emblazoned on its forehead. It would be nearly twice Kagura’s height standing, but for the moment it seemed content to lay there, impassively watching her with red tinged eyes and its head cradled over crossed paws. His mother didn’t share the dog’s disregard, a small smirk on her red lips as Kagura approached, eyes following her with the interest of a predator while her son pointedly looked elsewhere. With a sinking realization, Kagura knew who had requested her. 

“Sit.” The order was accompanied by a dainty hand, gesturing to the empty space beside her, just out of reach of the dog’s hind legs. Kagura angled her head in the semblance of a bow, figuring the formality might do her good as she gave one suspicious glance at Sesshoumaru, still willfully ignoring her. If not for Kagura’s curiosity, she might have told the old bitch where exactly she could shove her demands, but she thought better of it and sank to the floor, keeping her posture rigid. 

“I see you’ve recovered nicely from your injuries, how fortunate.” If that was meant to be a dig at her, the old bitch had no one to snark at about it besides her own damn son. Kagura didn’t take the bait, and simply levelled her with a patient smile which only earned a wider smirk from his mother. 

Music began to play again, soft over the din of conversation, his mother began to pack her long pipe, using the curve of her claw to scoop and fill the bowl from the container on the table before her. Sesshoumaru had an untouched cup of sake cradled in his palm, idly watching the musician in the center of the room and looking the perfect picture of boredom. Across the hall, she spotted Momiji and his uncle making their way through the crowd, diverted when the oni spotted her with the mother-son duo. She tugged on his uncle’s sleeve, pulling him in their direction, too nosy to leave well enough alone.

“Besides our previous encounter,” his mother said, taking a deep inhale and practically blowing the smoke in her face when she spoke again, “I hear your history with my son is more than just a simple acquaintance.”

Kagura bristled, the hand on her lap twirled, calling on a breeze to blow the smoke right back in the old bitch’s face. She glanced at Sesshoumaru, whose expression had gone from purposefully bored to a barely contained tension, his eyes narrowed at nothing and his lips thinned into a line. Kagura let out a sigh as Momiji and his uncle slunk in beside her, aware of the tension but too nosy and not perceptive enough to sit elsewhere.

“I don’t see how whatever he’s told you matters now,” Kagura finally said, fighting the urge to roll her eyes.

“Oh, don’t be upset with him, my dearest son hardly tells me anything, I had to find out from someone else,” his mother crooned, feigning insult as she cradled her face in her hands.

“...Someone else?”

Sesshoumaru finally turned to look at her, murder in his eyes as he snarled. “ _ Myouga.” _

Kagura’s brows raised high enough to create deep lines on her forward. His mother just tittered, leaning further into the giant dog’s side and there was the sound of someone clearing their throat, but Kagura couldn’t find the source― 

“My apologies, Miss Kagura, we’ve never been formally introduced.” She looked down, finally noticed the tiny speck of what she’d thought had been dirt smearing the floor in front of his mother’s knees. “My name is Myouga, I served Sesshoumaru-sama’s father, and have continued to faithfully serve his lineage.” Kagura glanced up at movement in the corner of her eye, catching sight of the fox kit’s bright green eyes peering around someone’s shoulder.  _ Ah.  _ “I was witness to many of your exploits.”

“Yes, he positively  _ regaled  _ me with the tale,” his mother hummed, and Kagura couldn’t help but thinking she looked like the cat who ate the cream, despite the difference in species. She wondered if that would be an insult. “Unfortunately, it seems Myouga’s story is missing some detail. I am curious how the two of you came to know each other so well when my son sought to kill your master.”

“ _ Former  _ master,” Kagura hissed, the back of her neck going hot. In her peripheral vision she spotted Momiji’s hand sliding towards her thigh, Kagura swatted it away with the flat of her fan. She’d done well to keep the oni out of her business, but it seemed she’d taken the chance by coming here and was losing the gamble. “I understand your grudge for what happened between the two of us, but you’ve nothing to worry about your son, he and I were never enemies.”

“Is that so?” His mother hummed, spewing smoke again. Behind her, the giant dog snorted, irritated by the cloud hanging in the air. “Shouyoukai?”

From behind Sesshoumaru’s fur the imp’s head popped into view, wringing his hands together and looking sheepish, his mother inhaled, but before she could get the words out Sesshoumaru was growling low in his throat.

“Jaken, go fetch more drink.”

Faced with his master or the Lady Mother, the imp chose the former, and quickly scurried off to do as he’d been bid, just in time for the flat of Sesshoumaru’s fist to come down sharply on the spot the flea had been only a moment ago. The dog raised its head, curious, and Kagura wondered what the hell had happened to piss him off so badly. Maybe he was still bitter from earlier, the welt on that boy’s head had been fairly large― 

“I did not come here for you to go digging up the past, mother,” he drawled as he turned away, his face returning to its typical impassive smoothness. “What’s dead is dead.”

“I suppose it is, isn’t it? I’ll be sure to remember that.” His mother tsked and took a long drag from her pipe, considering her son with thinly veiled annoyance. Sesshoumaru glanced at her from the corner of his eye, but then she just exhaled, a long sigh that left more thick gray smoke hanging around her head. His mother turned her attention back to the center of the room, ignoring Kagura’s presence entirely, mother and son an unsettling set of near mirror images of forced apathy.

Beside her, Momiji kept still, more than likely calculating how to ease the obvious tension, to turn the dead conversation to something she could control, but as her companion and much more accustomed to their prickly attitudes, Gajou simply let out a laugh. 

“It’s refreshing to see that some things never change,” he said congenially, and Momiji was quick to leap and fill his cup, now that the tension had broken, “you’ve gotten wiser with age, nephew, but you’re still nothing but a willful brat around your mother.”

The Lady raised her cup in affirmation but Sesshoumaru merely glared at his uncle from the corner of his eye.

Kagura rolled her eyes. She’d done her part, met with the bitch to assuage whatever vindication she still sought, if his mother was just going to snark at her rather than simply clawing her eyes out then Kagura had no interest in sitting there to listen to it or watching the woman preen her furs while smoking that damned pipe and blowing smoke in her face. She leaned back, the muscles of her legs flexing― 

“Well, if that’s all, then…”

“Wait.”

Kagura grit her teeth.

“We were having a pleasant conversation, stay won’t you?” The Lady Mother’s smile might have been disarming to anyone else, but Kagura knew enough of the family to be suspicious of it. Slowly, she relaxed back onto her knees, giving the son another wary glance that he did not return. 

“I’d hardly call it pleasant,” she finally said. His mother’s lip twitched, the slightest upward turn that was little comfort.

“Oh, don’t be so cold, I’m over it,” she said with a long exhale of smoke and a wave of her hand. “The smell of your blood from your little stunt the other night did well enough to appease me, for now.”

Hardly any consolation, Kagura thought, getting the distinct impression that his mother could hold a grudge for a millenia if she wanted. She kept her mouth shut, sealed into a thin line, whatever the status of her relationship with her son―antagonistic or friendly or apathetic―Kagura knew that his mother would continue being a thorn in her side so long as they both resided in the same castle. A chance she’d been willing to take, but still, she found it all the more annoying now that she’d sat beside her.

“Oni,” his mother started, tapping out the burnt ashes of her pipe into a bowl, “you were at the last festival, weren’t you? I remember those fangs.”

Momiji, jumping at the chance to talk about herself, brightened. “Yes, I had the pleasure, I’m flattered you remembered.”

The Lady seemed unimpressed with the platitudes and relit her pipe before she angled it in Kagura’s direction. “When did this one join you?”

Momiji wilted under the question. “About three―”

“If you want to know somethin’ you can ask me,” Kagura scoffed. Insulted, anger thrummed in her veins. She caught Sesshoumaru’s gaze, and wondered, if she went to slap his mother, get the pleasantries over with, would he intervene? Or would he just watch the old bitch try to tear her arm off?

“I could,” she said, “but I preferred to hear it from her.”

Behind Sesshoumaru’s fur, the little imp returned, brandishing a bottle with glee only to be shooed away again by a furious glare from his master. Across the room a fight broke out, all vicious snarling and broken glass as the participants lunged at each other, trampling tables and anyone else between them. The dog raised its head, watching the commotion, but quickly lost interest once the brawl moved into the yard, shouting and the whoops of spectators echoing around the hall. Neither mother nor son seemed to care for the spectacle, though his uncle did lean his head in that direction. Kagura steadfastly kept her attention elsewhere, wondering how much she could say without starting a fight herself. She’d just started to enjoy her time here― 

“Mother,” Sesshoumaru said, interrupting her thoughts, swirling his cup and looking out past the light into the yard, “if you invited her to join us just to pick a scab I’d prefer you do it _ without _ my attendance.”

There was a pause, mother staring at son with what looked like barely contained disdain, Kagura had the distinct impression that this might not be a conversation for mixed company, but then his mother sighed and pursed her lips in a pout.

“You’re just like your father, terrible sense of humor,” she huffed, leaning back further into the dog’s fur, giving its flank a light pat, “don’t you think so, Aporo?”

The dog snorted loudly. Sesshoumaru rolled his eyes. His uncle hid a chuckle behind a sip from his cup. Kagura wanted to tear her hair out.

“Tell me then, of your travels on the continent, I’m sure they’re worthwhile and I’m in need of a good tale.”

His mother wasn’t looking at her, she just sat, silently puffing on her pipe and watching the participants of the previous fight drag themselves across the floor, trailing blood spatters in their wake. She’d sounded sincere enough to give Kagura pause, wondering what the new game was. 

“I’m afraid I wouldn’t know where to start, so many of them are free of bloodshed, I don’t know if they’d be to your taste.”

“I will say I enjoy a tale of a battle as much as anyone, but I’ve grown to find there is much more sophistication in intrigue than war. Blood all begins to run together, in the end.” She sighed, huffing another heavy cloud of smoke, leaving Kagura to wonder if that was meant as consolation or advice. “Those earrings, for example, they’re from the north, aren’t they? I’m sure you have some stories of such a dreadful place.”

Kagura froze, her hand instinctively going up to finger the brass hoop strung through her lobe, the jade bead dangled against her palm and she gave his mother a look.

“I hardly found it to be  _ dreadful _ ,” she finally managed, and before she could say anything else Momiji was already spouting off.

“Kagura likes to be coy, but those were a gift from the bear king,” she tittered, probably thinking she was being helpful. “He was absolutely  _ smitten,  _ courted her from the minute we arrived to the minute we left, said he’d wait forever―” It took more than a look to get her to shut up, but a painful pinch to her side had the oni biting her tongue and sneering.

“The bear king? You mean Isonashi?” The lady drawled, taking another drag of her pipe. Kagura snapped her head back to look at her, but before she got the chance her gaze was caught by a different pair of simmering golden eyes. What the hell was he so upset about? “I can’t imagine you’d be here if you’d taken him up on his offer, those brutes are quite stubborn in their ways and no friends of ours. What reason did you have to break the poor bear’s heart?”

Kagura grimaced. She hadn’t broken anything, the poor bastard was still holding a torch for her back in his iced over den, and while she had recognized the merit of the warmth and safety he’d offered her, the longer she’d sat in the darkness, the smell of smoke clogging her lungs, the air stagnant and rotten, the more irritated she’d gotten. 

“I ain’t interested in bein’ locked away in some damp and dingy cave for the rest of my life.”

“Yet you kept his trinkets.”

Kagura gave her a sardonic smile. “I ain’t the type to turn down gifts either.”

His mother smiled, looking the most pleased Kagura had ever seen her, a glimmer in her eye, but the old bitch didn’t say anything else, a silence that made Kagura’s ears burn. Across from her, Sesshoumaru was watching the performance at the center of the room with a glazed over look, his mouth a thin line, and she almost took comfort in the familiar expression. Still, she couldn’t help but sneer into her cup, knowing that while Momiji had meant well―to flaunt the fact that one of her own had such powerful admirers, a prideful thing―she still didn’t know when to keep her mouth shut. Kagura had been doing very well  _ not  _ to think of the bear, or his offers, or the fact that she hadn’t outright told him  _ no _ ― 

“Oba-sama?”

Kagura’s ears piqued at the sound of the voice, a woman, a white haired young dog, pale faced with sunflower yellow eyes and swirling peach stripes in the hollow of her cheekbones, her cheeks dusted with pink from the cold. Even with the sleeve covering her face, the self satisfied smirk was evident in her eyes.

“I’d just arrived and wanted to come see you first.” She knelt down to join them before his mother had even acknowledged her presence. “And Sesshoumaru, it has been a long time. It’s so good to see you.”

He acknowledged her with nothing more than a nod. Kagura buried her nose in a cup of sake, the smell of it stung, but she was too preoccupied watching the bizarre spectacle to pay it any mind.

“You’ve changed, haven’t you?”

And then, Kagura had to bite her tongue, nearly choking on her own shock as the bitch leaned forward and plucked a lock of hair off his shoulder.

There was a pause, as she twirled his hair between her fingers, an sharp inhale from all who’d seen the breach of space, and judging by the look on Sesshoumaru’s face even he’d been struck a little dumb. His eyes widened by a hair, slowly turning his gaze to her hand, then to her face where she just continued to watch him, smiling prettily behind the fabric of her sleeve, yellow eyes crinkling with mirth. He inhaled, slowly, deliberately, his lips pulled away from his teeth, and he  _ snarled.  _ A vicious, savage thing, all fangs and fury. 

The hair on the back of Kagura’s neck rose, gooseflesh pebbling her skin at the sound and the oppressive pressure of jyaki that accompanied it. At her side, Momiji yipped, but the other dogs seemed unaffected, watching the scene with tempered boredom. Finally, the woman dropped her hand and stifled another giggle behind her sleeve.

“Hn, seems I was wrong, maybe not so much.” 

“You’ll have to do better than that, Ginhime,” his mother drawled once Sesshoumaru had closed his mouth. The woman nodded her head in assent. 

“Forgive me, I only wanted to be sure.” 

Kagura didn’t know if the apology was meant for him or his mother, but Sesshoumaru tore his rageful glare away from the woman, and briefly met Kagura’s gaze before sliding his eyes off to the distance, still looking annoyed but at least not as furious as he’d sounded. No one commented on the exchange, so Kagura kept her mouth shut, feeling like she was severely missing something. 

His mother sighed, loudly, and struck her pipe against the bowl with a clack. 

“As pleasurable as it’s been here with all of you,” she said, sounding altogether insincere. She smoothed her robes and fur, then got to her feet. “Ginhime, attend me.”

The woman smiled with her eyes, her gaze lingering on Sesshoumaru, and then with a small bow, stood and followed his mother out of the hall, a haughty swing in her step. Everyone except Sesshoumaru watched them go in silence. A question lingered on Kagura’s tongue, she only needed to give it the breath to ask, but before she could he’d already stood and practically stomped his way out of the hall in the opposite direction of his mother and the other dog. 

“What was that about?” Kagura finally managed to ask.

“Better not to ask,” Gajou said, chuckling into his cup. “Just youth.”

Kagura quirked a brow, and went to get up, if not for Momiji’s fingers working their way into her sleeve. Kagura turned back and narrowed her eyes.

“I have some  _ questions,”  _ Momiji hissed, but Kagura just shook her off with a wave.

The giant dog propped its head up and gave her a  _ look  _ as she passed, Kagura paid it as much mind as Momiji’s indignant hissing and Gajou’s laughing. She knew when to mind her business, when it was prudent to keep her nose out of things, but there were also times that a little nudge was worth the risk. Maybe Momiji had really worn off on her, after all these years. Besides, there was still a residual chill tingling its way up her spine from his snarl, and she couldn’t shake the memory of the glare he’d thrown her way. It only took a minute to find him in the winding corridors, as if he hadn’t even bothered to try to conceal his escape.

He had to know that she followed, she didn’t bother covering her footsteps, but still he continued, ignoring her and leaving her wondering what the hell the bitch had done to piss him off so bad. Touching him was one thing, but that growl had been nothing but rage. She cleared her throat, choosing a balm to smooth her prodding:

“So is that gonna’ happen every time I’m within spitting distance of your mother?”

He stopped, finally, and quirked his head to the side, as if thinking for a long minute, but then he turned, looking out over the yard instead of at her.

"You shouldn't let her goad you so, it seems she's developed a penchant for playing with her food."

"Oh? Your mother intends to eat me?" she mocked. "And what about you?"

He had no answer for that, but he did turned to her fully, his eyes darkened, narrowed and hidden beneath the shadow of his bangs. She stifled a chuckle, hiding it in the curve of her fist as she shook her head at him. He looked so different, away from all the commotion and amidst a backdrop of stars. Wound as tight as he was, he wasn’t suited for indoors, walls too confining for the feral thing he was underneath the gloss of aristocracy, human trapings a mere costume. She could see it in his eyes, the predatory gleam as he watched her; if she were anyone else that stare might threaten to send her screaming, but instead of an icy trickle of fear, it was something much warmer that suddenly flooded her veins. 

A lock of silver hair hung over his shoulder, almost golden in the light filtering through the paper screens and her arm moved before she could squash the urge, feeling like she had something to prove. Curious, but careful not to linger, she reached out and moved it away, the back of her knuckles skimming across his shoulder. Years ago, she remembered, she’d done the same, but now she kept her gaze averted from his, waiting for a reaction, any reaction, because the circumstances had been much, much different then…

Nothing happened. 

There was no snarl or sneer on his face, he was quiet, following the motion of her hand with his eyes, a curious sort of look on his face that she wasn’t sure how to read. She could feel the heat radiating off of him, off the pelt on his shoulder, so much warmer than her own frigid skin that she hadn’t noticed she’d leaned forward until he straightened his neck, a furrow marring his brow― 

“ _ Kagura!” _

She jumped at the sound of Momiji’s voice. Sesshoumaru took a step back, looking annoyed.

“Don’t you dare go anywhere! You have some answering to do!”

Kagura peered around her shoulder, saw Momiji briskly walking towards them, eyes blazing and hair curling around her head. Kagura groaned, she turned back to him, but he’d already sidestepped her, wanting nothing to do with the oni. His sleeve brushed her side, but Momiji was already on her, in her face and demanding attention, her apparent humiliation blinding her to everything else as Sesshoumaru left them standing there, a lull in the oni’s rant as she paused to take a breath the only reason Kagura caught the sound of his voice:

“I haven’t decided yet.”

Between Momiji’s screeching in her ear and the gruff protests running off her tongue, she didn’t have the time or presence of mind to ask what the hell he meant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kagura had boo thang in the yet to be written continuation of Born Free. Will it ever be published? Idk i just work here
> 
> Next time: Shippou commits minor crimes and Sesshoumaru goes on a date? Hmmm, not sure, instructions unclear


	13. Frost Flowers

“Okay, listen, I just needed you to go get that box for me.”

“What do I get for it?”

Kagura scoffed. “What do you want?”

The kit seemed to ponder this, tapping his finger against his chin until his face lit up, he jammed a finger in her face, a little too close given that she’d knelt down to talk to him. 

“Beat up Inuyasha.”

Kagura rolled her eyes. “Done that already _.” _

“Sesshoumaru?”

“ _ No _ .”

“Fine. His mom.”

“Why’re you tryna’ start more problems than I already have?”

He shrugged. “I’m a  _ kitsune,  _ it’s what I  _ do.” _

Well, she couldn’t really argue with that.

“ _Look,_ I’ll give you half or just take whatever else you can find and if anyone gives you shit for it, I’ll…” Kagura rubbed her temple, “...kill them or something.”

She half expected him to get squeamish, but Shippou just nodded serenely.

“Deal.”

Hn, maybe those humans hadn’t softened him after all, there might just be hope for the boy yet.

…

For one of the very few times in his life, Sesshoumaru felt as if he’d made a misstep, out of his depth, and altogether unsure how to proceed.

There was, of course, the stares he’d received when he’d first arrived; cousins and elders who hadn’t seen him in nearly a century, who he couldn’t rightly blame for the assumption that he’d gone the way of his father, dead before his prime. He’d anticipated it, and couldn’t help the heady warmth of smug satisfaction as they had to bite their tongues and show him the respect he deserved as the next presumptive general. Truth be told, that swell of pride had been the primary motivating factor for his attendance.

As for his mother, he hadn’t been looking forward to her meddling, especially given what had happened with the meidou and Rin, but he’d been prepared enough for it; had even suspected that he’d have to suffer through the teasing and pestering, and near endless chiding: 

_ “You’re still young yet, but it’s important to think about these things. It could take years, you know.” _

As much as it irked him to hear the words, it had been expected. While he bristled under her nagging, he knew what his obligations were, knew that preserving a legacy was just as critical as the strength he’d worked to gain, and knew that his mother was already scheming behind his back. She’d made it clear enough when she’d left the feast with Ginhime the other night; he’d let her have her fun, but had no intention of indulging it.

And then, finally, there was Kagura.

He hadn’t kept track of the days since that afternoon they’d spent together, only knew that the moon was nearing its last quarter. They’d spent a handful of nights since in each other’s company, so long as his mother was nowhere in sight. It wasn’t uncommon for him to turn and find her, or to find himself wandering the halls only to come across wherever she’d decided to perch herself for the afternoon. And always, before he could even say a word she’d smile at him as if she’d been waiting and ask him to join her. He’d say nothing or outright refuse, and she’d pout and purse her lips and make some sly comment he’d choose not to acknowledge or take as an insult, and then he would stand there behind her because going anywhere else seemed like a waste of effort. He wouldn’t consider it strange, except that… 

She kept touching him. Never in public, always making sure that there was no one to see, and never too forward or for too long. The brush of her hand against his arm, his shoulder, pulling imaginary lint from his hair or his fur. The touch always gone before he’d even thought to acknowledge it, and even then, in the silent seconds when she would simply smile at him and then go on her way, wandering off or changing the topic of conversation, he could hardly pull in the breath to question it. He’d almost grown to expect the chill of her hand, and when he wondered why, he couldn’t think of any other reason than that it pleased him to leave it be.

He knew he should be questioning himself on  _ why  _ it did, Kagura wasn’t any different from any of the other women who’d come through the gates, besides their prior history. But for the time being, Sesshoumaru consoled himself with the knowledge that in the end it wouldn’t matter much. There was no point in dissecting a passing dalliance.

But, even as he rationalized with admitting that much, he still stalked the castle’s halls, trying desperately to rid himself of Gajou, who’d fallen into step with him, regaling him with some tale from long before his birth. There was a moral somewhere in his uncle’s ramblings, but Sesshoumaru didn’t care to puzzle it out, he was already doing his best to drown it out.

“―by the time I’d turned around, your father was already halfway over the lake! And you know how he was when he was stuck on something,  _ bullheaded,  _ is what he was, and―” 

_ “Kagura you bitch!” _

The yelp perked his ears, a welcome distraction as they both turned at the sound, only to catch sight of Shippou barreling around a corner towards them, a bundle in his arms and a mountain witch hot on his heels. The boy spotted Sesshoumaru and his feet faltered, looking like he wanted to seek refuge behind his knees. Smartly, after seeing the disdain clear on the dog’s face, he thought better of it and decided to take his chances throwing himself over the rail and down into the yard below, landing in a puff of smoke.

“You damn  _ brat!!”  _ the witch screeched, nearly throwing herself over the railing after him. She caught herself at the last second. It was still early in the night, but the woman hardly paid him or his uncle any mind as they stepped behind her, too caught up in her rage at Shippou, for whatever he’d done to spite her. Sesshoumaru didn’t care to find out, instead he changed his course with a light sniff, finding the path easily enough, only a little more direct than the meandering route he’d intended on before the distraction. Unfortunately, Gajou just kept right along with him, ignorant of the change in course.

He found her easily enough, as usual, propped up on a railing and leaning against a post. A warmer night, she’d forgone a coat and simply sat with her legs pulled up to her chest, a lacquer box set on her knees. There were droplets of ice coating her scalp, her hair pulled into a looser tie than she usually wore, as if she’d just come from the bath. She perked up when she spotted him, the ugly hoops strung through her lobes jingling with the movement. He felt the beginnings of a sneer tugging at his lip, but it was his uncle who spoke first, forgetting his tale.

“That boy is cursing you,” Gajou chuckled.

“The fox?” He nodded and she shrugged, a devilish smile on her face. “He should know better than to trust me.”

“Oh? Are you saying you’re more mischievous than you seem, Miss Kagura?”

Her eyes flicked to Sesshoumaru, who stayed silent, just a step behind his uncle. She opened her fan, used it to shield her face, though it did little to hide the smirk evident in the quirk of her brow and the sheen in her eyes. “I suppose you’ll have to find out, won’t you, m’lord?”

“I’d rather not,” Gajou laughed again, “I’m afraid I’d be no match for you.”

“That’s very wise of you.”

His uncle made a few more comments while Kagura tittered, and idly, Sesshoumaru wondered why the hell Gajou was flirting with her if he had his own― 

“Well, I ain’t about to take my chances, then,” Gajou said suddenly, giving Sesshoumaru a grin and Kagura a nod. “I look forward to whatever you have in mind for us tonight, Miss Kagura.”

“Hn, you might be left dreaming, then.”

His uncle laughed and turned to walk away, leaving her with a wave over his shoulder and some other parting words. Sesshoumaru watched him go, holding himself back for the briefest moment.

“Have a good night, m’lord,” Kagura called after him, a giggle bubbling in her throat.

“You shouldn’t do that.”

“Hn?” She cocked her head and her smile turned soft.

“Referring to others that way doesn’t suit you.”

She blinked and then her smile grew to a ferocious grin, white teeth shining in the light, as gleeful as if he’d just presented her Naraku’s head on a plate.

“Is that so?” she chuckled, and then she reached into the little box on her knees. The scent of vinegar assaulted his nose as she held out her arm to him, still grinning. “Pickled plum?” 

Red and wet and pinched between her thumb and index finger, only a few inches from his face, the juice staining her fingers as she watched him expectantly. He briefly considered it, he stood close enough to reach for it, or, there came the unbidden thought, that he could simply lean forward and lick it from her fingers― 

“No? More for me then.”

She popped it into her mouth with a shrug, and then began to pull her fingers between her lips, tongue running over the digits in to suck away the juice that had dribbled down her wrist. He watched, frozen and silently reprimanding himself for whatever hellish area of his brain had supplied the image, and in the process leaving his gaze to linger on the action of her tongue running over her red stained lips. Her thumb caught on her lower lip, gently tugging it down, and it was only when the corner of her mouth quirked upwards that he realized she was staring at him.

“Something wrong?”

Sesshoumaru scowled, the back of his neck went hot, and Kagura… she started to laugh.

A growl rumbled in his throat. Whatever the hell that had been, he wasn’t interested in sticking around to hear her teasing―But, again, her hand on his forearm stopped him.

“Hold on, hold on,” she chided, still laughing quietly. “I wanted to ask you for a favor.”

He glared at her.

She sighed, still holding on to his sleeve. “I want to go out.”

He raised a brow.

She tutted as if she was explaining to a child. “I want to leave the castle. I’d rather not have to bring down the barrier again.”

How admirable. “Only those with permission from the steward may leave until after the festival is over.” 

“And  _ you  _ have permission, don’t you?”

He did. Anyone with dog’s blood did by right, the castle itself recognized the descendants of its conquering masters. The festival complicated matters only a little, honored guests had received their favors months ago, but the barrier would keep them inside until after the festivities unless otherwise instructed. Kagura, without a pass for herself or permission from the stewards would be essentially trapped just the same as the rest of them.

“Why do you want to go?” If she was desperate to leave then she could do it on her own.

“ _ Why _ ? Whatta’ you mean why? Why wouldn’t I?” She blinked at him, incredulous, but at his stare she sighed, crossed her arms over her chest and amended with: “I don’t like being stuck in one place so long. It gets stuffy.”

He considered that, knew that by her very nature she chafed under any form of constraint. Briefly, he wondered if that had been another of Naraku’s punishments for her; locked away inside a rotting castle or inside the bowels of that holy mountain for weeks. Kagura stared at him, expectantly, and he found himself saying the words before he’d even truly made the decision:

“Wait near the gate.” 

And then he turned away from her, but not quick enough to miss the way she perked up and leapt from her perch, quickly gathering her box of plums and dashing off in the opposite direction from him with a breathy giggle.

He trudged up more flights of steps than he cared to count, heading directly to his rooms, conflicted over whether or not it was the right decision to go with her. Kagura might misconstrue it, he hadn’t lied the other night when he’d implied that he was unsure when it came to her, but he didn’t need her jumping to conclusions. Even as he tied his armor into place and retrieved his swords, he wondered if it was the right thing to do, but by then he was outfitted with all his trappings and it seemed too late to change his mind. Besides, even he’d been blistering under the oppressive weight of the castle’s atmosphere, maybe a night in the mountains would do him well.

He received a few odd stares as he made his way back down to the entry yard, his cousins could make whatever assumption they wanted. If they thought he was leaving before the festival had truly begun then fine, he didn’t need to explain himself to them, nevermind the fact that he was still trying to explain to himself why he was even bothering to indulge Kagura in her whims.

As expected, she was waiting for him in the shadow of the gate’s heavy doors, a coat pulled up over her head and cinched tight near her throat, shielding her face as if anyone who cared to notice wouldn’t be able to recognize her by scent alone. She turned at the sound of his approach, his boots crunching in the loose packed snow; she looked like she might say something, but then Kagura pursed her lips, giving him pause. She’d been the one that wanted to leave, if she’d changed her mind then― 

“What’d you go and put on armor for?”

He stopped. “You wanted to leave the castle, didn’t you?”

She nodded slowly, her nose crinkled in a grimace as she reached forward and flicked one of the tassels of his cuirass, her eyes stuck on the motion as it swung back and forth. 

“I didn’t know you were―” she shook her head, “I’m not used to you looking so… standoffish, anymore.”

He rolled his eyes and stepped past her. “I’ll have to amend that.”

Kagura huffed, falling into step just beside him as he passed through the gate, the barrier clinging to them like a film as it released them into the chillier winter air. Outside, the mountain looked like any other, snow laden and almost glowing in the dim moonlight, the castle and its lights hidden away behind the barrier’s protection, only the rounded and shaped portal between the rhododendron tree’s branches giving any indication that there might be something amiss.

Beside him, Kagura sighed, delighted, as she stretched her hands over her head, a grin on her face. The change was nearly instant, the wind swirled around them both, an almost giddy atmosphere so drastically different than the one on the other side of the barrier. If he hadn’t been standing next to her, he might not have noticed the difference, but with her at the center of the gentle cyclone, it was hard to miss. It was evident on her, too, the difference in her posture, more languid and fluid than it had been before. She sighed again, a gleeful little sound that bordered on a moan, and then turned back to smile at him as she plucked a feather from her hair.

“Are you coming?” There was no challenge in the question, only curiosity. 

He nodded slowly, wondering why he’d assumed it had been an invitation when she’d first asked him, she had no use for him other than getting her through the gate, she’d need him to cross back over, it wasn’t as if they needed to stick to each other for the duration of her little excursion.

But, she seemed pleased enough with his answer as she threw her feather to the air, an accompanying gust stretching it to a size she could perch herself on.

“Just make sure you can keep up!” 

Now  _ that _ was a challenge. His youki swirled around him, answering to it with a flourish as she took to the air, racing away down the valley and leaving him behind, disturbed snowflakes kicking up in her wake.

It wasn’t quite the same as the last time he’d followed her. There was no urgency in her flight, and her path seemed surer, her feather drifting between the eddies to find the path of least resistance, not the frantic weaving she’d done that night. However, he couldn’t help but notice that she avoided the coast, taking a sharp turn before they’d barely left sight of the mountain, a looping course that brought her higher and higher into the night sky, her feather barely a white smear against the stars. She slowed towards the top, drifting above the barren and rocky peak. Sesshoumaru let her go, watching as she stared out over the snow capped mountain range he’d grown up in.

For the briefest second she looked back down at him, smiling, and then she turned north, her feather bucked, picking up on another draft and she followed the ridge of the mountain down into the valley on the eastern side, dropping until she glided just above the frozen waters of a shallow river. 

Her pace never slowed, her flight confident and carefree, unperturbed by the rocks and ice that would greet her happily if she were to make a mistake. How much energy did she put into her flight, he wondered, or did the wind simply take her where it wished and she trusted it to cushion her fall. The more he watched, trailing a little farther behind her with every passing second, he guessed it was the latter.

The cold wind whipped at his face, stinging his cheeks and burning down his nose and throat when he inhaled, but if it bothered her at all she didn’t show it, and he refused to slow for the inconvenience, powering through it just like everything else in his life, fighting against the wind that tried to slow him down. The sensation faded, after a while, giving way to the heat in his blood. He knew these mountains, had hunted and chased and ran through them for years, and there was an instinctual thrum in his veins, focused on that slip of white and blue flickered in and out of trees and rocks before him. The true Hunt hadn’t begun, but he hadn’t realized that the anticipation had taken root in his bones. It had manifested in irritation, and sought release now as he dropped out of the air and took to the ground, running.

Kagura glanced behind her, curious at his change as the valley widened, opening up and spilling out into a larger river, this one not completely frozen. Water still rushed between its icy banks, loud and rumbling with what little snow had melted during the warmth of the day. 

Suddenly, she veered left, following another shallow creek up into a branching valley, she swerved through its curves until they turned a corner and hit a dead end, the walls of the mountains surrounding them crested, meeting in a frozen waterfall. Kagura slowed, her feather skimming the snow laden flood plain, kicking up dust snowflakes until she finally skidded to a stop. She leapt from her feather, skipping across in the snow until she had slowed her momentum enough to a stand still.

“How was that?” she called back to him. Sesshoumaru came to a stop only a few feet behind her, in the wake of her foot prints. He didn’t respond, only offered a snort as if it hadn’t been a challenge at all to keep up with her amidst the buffeting winds and icy weather. Kagura just rolled her eyes and started walking away. Sesshoumaru stayed behind, watching as she tentatively stepped out onto the icy creek. The ice groaned under her weight, but didn’t crack, even as she went closer and closer to the frozen falls. 

Water still gushed beneath the ice, he could hear it rumble, spinning down the channels it had created in the icicles, invisible behind the frost. He hardly paid it any mind, his gaze stuck on Kagura as she gently toed her way across the little pond gouged into the rocks. She seemed so sure of herself, even on such uneven ground, and he couldn’t help but notice that even performing the simplest of actions, it always felt like she was dancing. From the sway in her hips to the smooth set of her shoulders, the way she held her chin high. Not just a dance, he knew, he’d seen her fight, the dance was merely a pretense for battle, the set to her shoulders assured as any warrior, and the motion of her hips spoke to the flexibility in her form― 

Kagura turned. “What?”

He wouldn’t even deign her with a response of “nothing”, he simply shook his head and tore his gaze away. Kagura chuckled, the sound of it bounced off the ice, the echo just as crisp as the chill and setting a shiver down his spine. 

For her part, Kagura seemed happy enough to wander the valley, gliding across the ice and simply reveling in the feeling of the chilly air on her skin. She hadn’t even bothered to keep her coat closed, leaving him to wonder, again, if that night on the beach had been an anomaly, that the cold simply didn’t affect her in the same way it did warm blooded creatures. Sesshoumaru, unsure of what her plan had been, chose to do what he did best, and chose a spot shielded from the wind behind the trunk of a sturdy tree, and waited, content to watch the snowflakes falling from the boughs above. 

Steadily, the snow began to fall in earnest, from only a handful to the soft patter of fat snowflakes against the ground. Kagura either didn’t notice or didn’t care, continuing in her little dance across the creek and through the icicles thick as tree trunks that hung from the cliffs. If not for her sudden pause, he might not have noticed the sound of tiny footsteps crunching through the snow. 

Kagura had frozen, but Sesshoumaru sensed no youki, no malicious intent, and when he leaned away from his perch, he saw why. Two forest spirits, identical down to the plaits of downy white hair that hid their eyes and almost glowing in the dull, cloud stricken moonlight. More than likely the ones who oversaw the health of the falls. They’d taken the appearance of children, but despite the innocent image, they could not hide their ethereal qualities. Dressed totally in white, their robes hardly covered their skin, their arms and legs bare. Their movements were too fluid, too assured in their steps, their weight hardly pressing into the snowbanks as they approached her. 

It was rare to see them so out in the open, even for him. They typically scurried away at his presence, he’d only seen a handful throughout his life. Kagura hid her face behind her fan―the one he’d given her―but seemed unsurprised by their approach, not even when they stopped on the banks of the creek and dropped to their knees in prostration before her, foreheads pressed against the ground.

Sesshoumaru held his breath, Kagura glanced up at him, but the spirits hadn’t acknowledged him at all. 

“What is it?” The tone of her voice was surprisingly soft as she addressed them, the lower half of her face still hidden away behind her fan. The two answered in unison, not with words, but by lifting their arms and pointing downstream. He couldn’t see their faces, their backs to him, but Kagura’s eyes followed their direction, and she must have understood their meaning. “Oh. Alright, I can do that much.”

The spirits got to their feet as she stepped past them, trailing along behind her as she trudged up the bank. Sesshoumaru took a step out of his place, curious, but the spirits flinched and ducked behind her legs, watching him apprehensively. Kagura chuckled.

“It’s alright,” she said, her voice soft, and placed a hand on one of their shoulders, pushing them forward to keep walking. “He’s fine.”

The spirits continued watching him as she shuffled them off down the bank, their eyes were hidden behind their hair, but he could feel their prickling gaze on his skin as he slowly followed, curiosity compelling him forward. Something about the image before him, Kagura walking calming with two childlike spirits clinging to her legs… suspicion, maybe, as he tried to find a rationale for the usually so prickly Kagura to go along with whatever they needed her to do. 

They stopped not far from the falls, in front of a snowbank nearly as tall as Kagura. The spirits tugged on her sleeves, pointing, and she shooed them away as she raised her fan and brought down a gentle gust, just strong enough to blow the snow away, revealing the spirit’s altar carved into a boulder. Kagura brushed away what little snow remained with her hand, making sure the altar was clear.

“Better?” she asked as she stepped away. The spirits nodded eagerly. “Good, I won’t be coming back, so next time don’t let it get so bad.”

The spirits dropped to their knees again, bowing deeply. Kagura looked like she only mildly tolerated it, especially as they got back to their feet and pulled on her hands. She offered them up without complaint, her palms cupped as the two children placed their hands in hers. Suddenly there was light leaking out between their fingers, and when they pulled away there was a flame hovering in Kagura’s palms.

They looked pleased with themselves, and with a final deep bow, they scurried off, disappearing behind the boulder. He watched them go, vanishing into their little hovel in the rocks, the tiny footprints in the snow the only evidence of their presence. 

Kagura stood up straight, the flame still cupped between her hands as she turned to walk back to him. The light haloed her, set her eyes aflame, such a stark difference between the fire in them and the blacks and greys and whites that surrounded her. She stopped within an arm’s length of him and held up the flame. Even so small, he could feel its warmth kissing his cheeks, almost burning with the chill that had set into his skin. He raised a hand, holding the backs of his knuckles out to the heat, revelling in the warmth though his gaze was still stuck on her eyes. 

“The spirits show you respect,” he finally said, a little intrigued.

Kagura hummed in affirmation, her gaze stuck on the little flame as it began to peter out, flickering wildly in her hands. She glanced up at him and noticed his stare, one brow quirked in curiosity. She inhaled, unsteady.

“I―” she licked her lips, “I can act as proxy.”

“...For your god.” She nodded. The flame finally died and she dropped her hands to her sides. He watched her, sensing the subtle tension that lined her posture, the uncertainty in the way her eyes wavered from his stare. She hadn’t wanted to tell him. A myriad of reasons why she wouldn’t echoed in his head, though only one stuck out, the only thing that could explain why she would avoid the topic and why she could act as stand in for a god. 

He stepped away from her. “I’m going back.”

Her lips parted like she might protest, but she just nodded once and then let him lead their way back to the castle.

A much more somber journey than it had been earlier. Kagura was quiet as she trailed along behind him, her flight path sure and true and drafting in his wake as he dashed through the air. It seemed only a few minutes passed before he was touching down before the rhododendron gate, his boots crunched in the snow, his hands numbed from the cold, ready to return to the warmth of the castle.

“Sesshoumaru?”

He paused, stopped to look at her over his shoulder.

“Thank you.” She smiled at him, snowflakes dotting her hair, her lashes, her cheeks flushed from the chill, and he was suddenly struck, a deafening realization bouncing around inside his skull that froze him to the spot― 

_ Ah. _

Well. 

That would be a problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I just saw the teaser for the sequel series and TAKAHASHI REALLY OUT HERE FUCKING UP MY WHOLE CANON FOR THIS PAIRING HUH I’m telling myself maybe it’ll be a miracle that Kagura comes back, but in reality I’m preparing to burn my love for this series to the fucking ground if she gives in to pressure and makes SessRin canon
> 
> ANYWAY I got a question about music inspo/recs for this series, I’ve been putting together a spotify playlist that is sort of ordered to relate to Born Free and this work, still in progress but if anyone is interested or has their own recommendations, you can find it on my tumblr at Kiwi--Witch or here: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4ET27RsfbSbHe5UJKejpW8?si=R873vdeZTeqYAHTd2sbchQ


	14. Sugar Weather

He was going to drive her up the fucking wall.

“From everything I hear,” Momiji said, running an ivory comb through her hair, “he’s never been easy to read.”

An understatement.

“He’s a dog, isn’t he?” Hotaru chimed in as he dug through a pile of his robes. “Just make yourself super fragrant, like, just start blowing your scent everywhere, he’ll pick up on it eventually.”

Kagura crinkled her nose. “That sounds gross.”

“What?” Hotaru thumbed his nose. “It ain’t like  _ I _ can’t already smell you from here, if he’s into it, he’s into it.”

Momiji giggled and Kagura rolled her eyes, dropping her chin into her hand and tapping her finger against her cheek. 

Saying that things had been uneventful in the dog’s castle wasn’t much of an understatement, at least, as far as Kagura was concerned. There was the odd scrap here and there, usually between dogs, their tempers running hot as the night of the festival neared, it wasn’t unusual for someone to get tossed through a wall or into the main yard, spilling blood in the snow. So far there had been no casualties, and while Kagura held no guilt for destroying a part of the castle, she was a little smug that at least she wasn’t the only one. 

Sesshoumaru’s mother had moved on to more entertaining victims, a small blessing, at least now the old bitch mostly ignored her to the point that Kagura got the feeling she might have fucked up her way into her good graces. If she was around, his mother always seemed to find something to snark to her about, or simply gave her a  _ look  _ whenever someone else did something a little too forward. Kagura still wasn’t quite sure how she felt about that, unnerved by the thought that his mother might actually  _ like  _ her. And as for her son…

While she’d never claimed to be good at reading Sesshoumaru, she’d thought that maybe she’d been a little better at it than most, save for the toad and the girl. After the night they’d fought and he’d made amends by fixing her up along with getting her new clothes, she’d thought that his opinion of her had simply gone from mildly tolerant to the sort of camaraderie of two former accomplices. He was certainly kinder to her than he was to most, and she’d taken even that with a grain of salt, that maybe his annoyance with his family had translated to a preference for her company, that she was marginally more tolerable than them. She’d been careful not to let it get to her head, Sesshoumaru was still an unapproachable asshole at the best of times, thinking that he did anything more than tolerate her presence out of sheer boredom was stupid.

At least, that’s what she’d been telling herself until the night she’d felt a little bold and reached out for his hair, and Momiji had been the one to ask the question:

“ _ So, when’s  _ that  _ happening?” _

_ “What?”  _ She’d scoffed. “ _ Nothing’s happening.” _

_ “Really?  _ Please.”

And then Momiji had gone into great detail―starting off first by saying that she and Hotaru had already started a betting pool on how long it would take―talking about how even his uncle had made some comments about Sesshoumaru getting cozy with her. 

Cozy had been too comfortable a word for Kagura, so she’d brushed Momiji off and had intended to push it to the back of her mind if not for her next comment:

_ “Alright, fine, but take notice of where his attention is at tomorrow, you’ll see.” _

And of course, she’d already noticed his looks, had attributed them either to curiosity or annoyance or one of the other few emotions he allowed himself to feel. But she’d been in a decent mood and had decided to indulge Momiji’s whims for once, so she’d paid attention the next night.

And the night after that.

And the one after that.

And each time, when she felt that little tickle of awareness of being watched, she’d turn and find him looking at her. And of course, he wasn’t the type to shy away from being caught staring―probably some predator’s instinct telling him never to back away from a challenge―so she’d be stuck with that stare until one or both them were interrupted by someone else or until Kagura honestly couldn’t handle it anymore, until the back of her neck got too hot or the shivers running down her spine were too obvious, the heat of his stare too severe for her to stand under too long and completely rewriting every expectation she’d ever had of him.

Because the reality was so bizarre, so earth-shatteringly impossible, that she’d refused to believe it until she’d sat there and fully absorbed the implication― 

He’d been looking at her like he wanted to fuck her for  _ weeks _ .

Kagura wasn’t stupid. She wouldn’t let herself get too far ahead in that line of thinking without proof, and acting on it was out of the question. If she’d misunderstood, well, he’d already implied that he wouldn’t raise a hand to her, there wouldn’t be a fight, but it would certainly cut her time in the castle short, and she’d probably never be able to face him again out of sheer embarrassment. 

So she had to settle for the next best thing: pushing boundaries until he told her to stop.

As loath as she was to admit it, she tested out Hotaru’s hypothesis first. She started spreading her scent in the banquet hall, the barest traces laced into a breeze, and sure enough, his gaze would be on her in the next breath. Emboldened, she started stretching the distance, until she could be on the other side of the castle when she started and within minutes he’d be walking around a corner, looking confused as to how he’d ended up there.

Next was touch. She’d already seen how he’d reacted to that bitch Ginhime’s handling of his hair, and she’d tested how he’d felt about her doing so, so she already knew that he didn’t mind her touch, wouldn’t shy away from it, at least, but she needed to know if it was tolerance or his pride or more than that. She started with his arm, over his sleeve, nothing too forward or too intimate. She’d moved on to the back of his hand, his wrist, his shoulder; once, she’d ran her hand over the fur at his shoulder and found it to be much softer than she’d have imagined, and ever since her focus had been on restraining that imagination from wondering what it would be like to be wrapped up in it. 

Their little field trip had come after that. She hadn’t intended for him to come along, she had wanted to get out of the castle and had thought he’d simply open the gate for her and be on his way, but he’d surprised her. Not to his detriment, it seemed he’d gotten as much out of leaving the stuffy air and oppressive atmosphere as she had, and she’d thought that maybe, finally, she’d be able to finally get a definitive answer… but he’d walked away.

And ever since, he’d been quieter, had stopped indulging her little whims, had started to shy away from her touch. But that fucking stare was still the same, still just as heated and predatory as before, which meant he was just trying to keep away from her on purpose. It stung, a little, but she couldn’t help the feeling that he was hiding rather than uninterested, and the idea of him holding himself back was more than a little heartening, a little thrill that went straight to her head and wouldn’t let her leave well enough alone.

There had always been a tender spot in her heart for him, ever since that day she’d been dying. He’d come to  _ her,  _ had carved a place for himself between her ribs that even four years later she still couldn’t gouge out, that still ached if she thought on it for too long. But as tender as it was, she wouldn’t delude herself with some grand notions or  _ feelings.  _ He had some admirable qualities besides his looks and his strength, but she wouldn’t let herself dwell on them long enough to get attached.

They were adults, and Sesshoumaru was Sesshoumaru. It’d be stupid of her to think that his attraction to her was anything more than physical, and being honest, she was fine with that. If a good fuck was all he wanted, she’d be more than happy to oblige him. Kagura was nothing if not an opportunist, and if the opportunity to get mad and moody Sesshoumaru up against a wall, well, it’d be a shame to let it go to waste, wouldn’t it?

It seemed he just needed a little… coercion.

Which, for once, had resulted in her wandering the halls of the castle, looking for him.

Just like Byakuya had taught her. She draped herself with the wind, wrapped it around her form like a cloak, used threads of varying temperatures, hot and cold mixed over her skin, blended together to form a disguise that if looked at closely enough, looked like the shimmers of heat stroke. Her technique wasn’t as refined as her brother’s, she’d be found out if anyone looked close enough, but with the direction of the wind diverted to mask her scent, she doubted anyone would bother. She supposed that was a blessing when dealing with dogs: if they couldn’t smell it, it didn’t exist.

As usual, he was taking his time in going to the banquet. She didn’t know why he bothered in the first place, a scuffle was one thing, but he looked like he was on the verge of homicide half the time, especially when his mother started pestering him. Another blessing then, that he’d taken his time, because she found him standing alone in one of the branching gardens, staring at nothing and smoking a long pipe.

She paused at the garden’s threshold, watching as the smoke curled around his head, untouched by the wind she held at bay. He seemed relaxed, his posture languid, his shoulders a little slumped, she wondered if that was to ward off the cold or if it was because he thought no one was watching. She savored the moment just a second longer, before calling on a breeze that would bring her scent to his nose. He lifted his head, and just before he turned his neck, she dropped the illusion.

If it was possible for him to allow himself to look shocked, she thought this would certainly be one of those few times. His posture went rigid, his eyes widened by a hair, and his mouth thinned into a hard line, as if he was trying to bite his own tongue. That little thrill shot down her spine and she hid her grin behind her fan. 

“Picking up your mother’s habits?”

He sneered and rolled his eyes.

“Someone’s not in a good mood.” But then again, when was he ever? She shook the question from her mind and gently stepped up beside him. She called on the wind when she was close, strong enough to disperse the cloud of smoke, but weak enough that it did not bring the cold in with it. It had been a colder night than usual, so it was a bit surprising to find him out here, with the way the icy air stung even her nose. “Cooling off?”

He exhaled, spewing smoke, and then his gaze slid to her, half lidded and hot. “You aren’t the only who finds the inside of this castle oppressive.”

“That so?” A shiver ran down her spine, she hid it behind her fan. His eyes narrowed. “I think standing out here freezing is less comfortable than keeping warm somewhere inside, isn’t it?”

Sesshoumaru huffed and Kagura reminded herself to be patient.

“I wanted to ask your help with something, can you come with me?” she asked, trying to sound as innocent as was possible for someone like her. He didn’t look like he bought it, given the unconvinced quirk in his brow as he took another puff from his pipe. 

“I don’t know what you could possibly need  _ my  _ help for,” he said, and would have blown smoke straight into her face if she hadn’t shoved her fan at his mouth. 

“Maybe I don’t  _ need  _ it.” The smoke seeped out, swirling around his head and haloing his hair in the dull candlelight. His pupils had gone a little wide as he peered at her over the paper’s edge, his gaze still just as heavy. She smirked. “Maybe I just want it.”

There was just the slightest waver, a flicker, a twitch in his eye, and when she pulled her fan away the barest part between his lips that felt like pure victory. 

He lifted his chin, the debate he was having with himself clear in his expression, but then, finally:

“Fine.”

Kagura kept her smirk as inconspicuous as possible as she spun on her heel. She heard him tap the pipe against his palm before his footsteps followed, thumping against the wooden planks with assured steps.

She hadn’t lied, she did need his help, or more like his assurance, but she knew her excuse was flimsy, and could almost feel his annoyance seep into the air the further she led him into the depths of the castle. Careful not to catch the eyes of anyone else, she stopped several times, waiting for someone to pass them by, which earned her several indignant huffs from her shadow. He kept several feet of distance between them, but still she could feet his heat at her back, his stare on her spine. She was still a little surprised that he’d agreed to come with her, especially when she found the opening in the wall that would lead to their destination. The passage still granted her access, she’d noticed a few times, that she hadn’t been blinded to its existence, she’d wondered if that had been on purpose or a fluke, but had decided that asking would probably just get her excluded for good.

“Kagura.”

“Hn?” She stopped, just a few feet beyond the barrier’s edge, the static still clung to her skin, and she turned to face him. His eyes were narrowed at her, despite the gloom of the tunnel she’d led them into, and he looked like he was holding his breath.

“Where are you going?”

“Am I missing something?” He tilted his head. “Aren’t you coming, too?”

His gaze shifted, slowly sliding from her face to the rock walls surrounding them and the space just beyond the top of her head, as if making sure they were alone. A tiny trickle of guilt flooded her belly, like she’d inadvertently lured him into a trap, which was only partly true, she supposed, but still. Finally, his eyes met hers again and he gave her a minute nod to continue.

“Don’t look so suspicious,” she chuckled when she turned to continue, emphasizing her words with her fan over her shoulder. “You act like I’m dragging you away to eat you or something.”

A soft huff was the only response he gave, and she supposed that was enough.

“You know, I never actually found out what this little festival of yours was.”

“The oni never told you.” The gentle rumble of his voice echoed around her, warmed by the heat of the earth and pressing in on her just as much as the rocky walls.

“I never bothered to ask.”

He hummed lightly, a barely there sound that was almost lost amongst the soft echo of their footsteps. The path to their destination wasn’t long, but it certainly felt far with the silence; she could feel the damp draft from the cavern up ahead, a subtle ghost of wind kissing her skin and bringing the smell of water with it.

“A hunt.”

Her steps didn’t falter, but she did pause to glance at him over her shoulder. His eyes were hard to make out in the dim light, but he wasn’t looking at her anyway.

“A hunt for what?”

He made a noncommittal sound. “It doesn’t matter.”

“But you have to do it in the winter? That seems… well, seems damn stupid.” She supposed that was probably true, so long as they hunted it didn’t matter what the prey was. She tapped her fan against her shoulder and he was silent for several breaths, as they rounded a turn the cavern opened, just as eerie as the last time she’d been, but his voice interrupted the silence:

“Longest, darkest night; dogs howl to a moonless sky; ghosts are free to run.”

Kagura stopped and turned back to him, where he’d paused just on the threshold of the cavern, still framed by the tunnel’s entrance. She mulled over his words, even as she leaned back and her calves came into contact with the femur of a something she didn’t care to know.

“A moonless sky? I suppose that’s why a certain someone wasn’t invited.”

He scowled and finally stepped out into the cavern. “Why did you bring me here?”

“Maybe I just wanted your company,” she mocked. She twirled her fan, feeling the threads of air that slipped between bones, she called on them, bringing forth a medley of parts to make something that looked like it could have been a living thing once. A hard task, given the way that most of the bones that had been stacked here had long since fallen and chipped into the dust that littered the floor, only half cracked splinters for fingers, a rib cage that was missing several ribs, no feet to speak of, a skull that had been bashed in; but her little puppet could still dance to her tune. A flick of her wrist and it was twirling circles around him. Sesshoumaru ignored it, his gaze going hard as he met her eyes. Kagura sighed.

“I wanted to ask you if I could use them.”

He quirked a brow. 

“The bones.” She gestured to the cavern behind her, all the skulls and bones stacked high. “I wanted to use them on the night of the festival, for a performance.”

His eyes finally left hers, Sesshoumaru moved past her, his footsteps crunched against the splinters littering the floor as he took the few steps further down into the cavern, the puppet followed after him, exaggerating each step with a sway in its hips. It stopped when he stopped, looking out over the hoard his family had accumulated over the years, a wall stacked high with skulls just beside him.

“I hardly see how I needed me to come for you to ask me that.”

She shrugged. “Maybe you just looked so cold out there by yourself, like you needed some warming up.”

“I was fine,” he snapped, “this should have been a question for my  _ mother _ , not for me.”

“Oh, my mistake for thinking you’re the big dog around town,” she rolled her eyes, “with the way everyone talks about you I thought you had some say in things. Guess not.”

He looked like he might start snarling, with how quickly his head whipped back to look at her, a grimace on his face and his brows pulled together so severely the line between them was nearly a chasm. Kagura let the puppet fall to the floor with an echoing clatter, the bits of bone bouncing off each other in a staccato beat.

“What’s up?” She went to him, stopped when she was only an arm’s length away and found them eye to eye, her a little higher due to the cavern’s slope. “You seem to be in an even worse mood than usual.”

He straightened, raised his chin as if that would make up the difference, but she couldn’t help but notice that he was holding his breath.

“Something wrong?”

His lips parted as if he might answer, but no sound came, the air still trapped in his lungs and his gaze still half lidded, heavy; she almost looked away, intimidated by the intensity of it, but she reached for his face, running the backs of her knuckles along the moon on his forehead and attempting to smooth the furrow in his brow. He let her, holding his breath again, she traced the line of his hair, down across the marks on his cheekbones until she came to the line of his jaw, she stopped there, and his hand finally snapped up. His claws pressed against the tender skin on the inside of her wrist, not quite digging in, but just enough pressure to cause her pulse to quicken.

“ _ Kagura.” _

Something acidic laced his voice, a deep rumble that sent a shiver down her spine. A threat or a promise, she wasn’t quite sure, but it was the deep inhale he took, his nostrils flaring as his eyes never left hers; the glare softened, and she _ …  _ her heartbeat did not slow, still beating fast in her breast, but not out of fear as she leaned forward, closing the distance between them and kissed him.

His lips were warm, soft against hers, and for several moments she stayed like that, holding herself steady against him. He’d hardly moved, and she’d closed her eyes, unable to tell if he still had them open, or if he’d just stood there, frozen when she’d― 

A hand settled on her waist, and then she did feel the prick of claws digging into her skin, the sensation muted by the layers of her robes, but it was enough to pull her closer, knocking her off balance, she had to steady herself against him, one hand still on his jaw and the other burying itself in his fur. His lips parted, she could taste a hint of smoke, not nearly as intolerable as it had been burning down her throat, could feel the barely there brush of a fang against her lip. 

A moan worked its way up her throat, and suddenly she found herself cold.

Sesshoumaru had backed away from her, his eyes half-lidded and cloudy, his breathing still heavy as he stared at her. Her own lungs expanded rapidly, taking in much needed air for her thundering heart. Along her wrist the ghost of his touch lingered, leaving a chill. She brought a hand to her chest, pulling her kosode tighter to ward off the sudden exposure.

“Sesshoumaru…?” Her voice trembled. She hated sounding so meek, but he―

He broke her gaze, submissive, shook his head and then left her standing with her jaw on the floor.

* * *

“And then?”

“Hm, well, let's see, it’s been a few years but…”

Shippou should’ve known that listening to Myouga was, usually, not a good idea.

_ Especially _ , when the path the flea had led him on sent him nearly colliding straight into Sesshoumaru's legs. Quick reflexes had him tumbling back and away from the dog who was giving him a positively menacing glare that growled “ _ move, worm _ ”.

And it wouldn't have surprised Shippou, as the dog was known for his bad attitude, but the red stain smeared across his mouth made him all the more terrifying. 

Blood. Had to be blood. 

So Shippou jumped to the side, made himself as small as possible, and waited for Sesshoumaru to keep walking, only breathing a deep sigh of relief once he'd disappeared around a corner. 

Myouga grumbled something from his perch in Shippou's hair. The boy shrugged, deciding it was better to not worry about whoever the moody dog had devoured. So long as he wasn't next on the menu that was  _ fine by him _ .

Too distracted, he didn't sense the static of the barrier until Kagura appeared from the wall and tripped over him, sending them both sprawling on the ground.

“You―!” She shrieked. On her belly, she slammed a fist against the floor and grimaced at him. Slightly  _ less  _ menacing, though no less terrifying. But there was something…

“Uh,” Shippou made a gesture with his finger, waving it around his own mouth. “Your, um, lipstick…”

Kagura’s eyes bulged and her face turned nearly the same shade as her eyes as she brought a hand to her mouth, examining her palm when it came back smudged pink. 

“Fuck!” Her eyes focused on him, and she lunged, grabbing him by the collar and giving him a good shake. “Tell  _ anyone,  _ brat, and I will fucking  _ end you.  _ Got it?”

He nodded his head vigorously until she seemed satisfied and dropped him before storming off in the opposite direction of Sesshoumaru, leaving Shippou on the ground and rubbing his neck, mind racing.

“You don't think…?”

“I'd prefer not to meddle in  _ that.” _

And even though he had just stumbled upon possibly the  _ biggest  _ secret he'd been privy to in  _ years _ , Shippou figured it was just plain safer agreeing with the flea.

“I think we'll just stay here for now.”

“...Right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ٩(ര̀ᴗര́*)


	15. Frostbite I

_ Lust. _

A damnable feeling any other time, but especially now. 

Especially with  _ Kagura,  _ of all fucking people.

In hindsight, he should have known where it was all going when she’d so coyly asked him to go with her, but he’d been too caught up in his own ego, thinking that he still could inspire uncertainty or fear in her, that she’d be too insecure to make such a bold move.

He’d been wrong. And looking back on it, he should have known better. Kagura had always been the type to push boundaries.

She’d kissed him.

Such an insignificant action, such a simple little thing, and yet…

He was completely out of his element.

She’d  _ kissed _ him.

And as many times as he tried to sort his own feelings on the matter, things just continued to get more complicated.

Four years ago, he had developed a sense of… responsibility. He hadn't liked Kagura. She was crass, impulsive, disrespectful, temperamental, and manipulative. She insulted him and didn't care for the consequences, something few, save his brother, dared to do.

But she  _ had  _ aided him, several times in fact, despite his denial of her request to save her. It was in her own interest to do so, but it didn't make the danger of what she was doing any less real. After his first outright denial, she hadn't asked him again, only pointed him in the right direction. He didn’t take her help because he was going to kill Naraku for  _ her _ , they simply had a mutual interest.

He had pitied her, he’d thought, pitied her situation and the fact that she was too weak to do anything about it herself.

And then she had  _ died.  _ He’d watched as she faded from existence, poisoned from her master's miasma, her body torn apart before his very eyes. But she smiled, he’d  _ tried― _ Tenseiga hadn’t worked. And that had been unacceptable. 

Because she had smiled at him, as if she was grateful, happy, as if he had ever actually done anything to help her aside from a failed attempt with his sword. As if it wasn't partly his inaction that had killed her. He'd proven her right. He hadn't been strong enough to destroy Naraku then, and she'd been the one to pay for it. And in the weeks following, he'd attributed the ache in his chest to pity, to guilt, and to disbelief, even anger, at Tenseiga's failure. 

Then that patchwork monstrosity Moryoumaru had opened his despicable mouth to insult her, and he had been unnaturally angry. Because how  _ dare _ he _ ― _ He broke that damned sword that had lead to their first meeting. 

But he’d been rewarded, that failure Tenseiga was given a new ability. A  _ killing  _ Tenseiga, rather than a healing one. Too little, too late.

He couldn't help but curse his father and his tests. There had to be an easier way to achieve true strength than watching someone die.

He made a vow, if only to himself, he wouldn't avenge her, no, he didn't share enough compassion or care for that; but he would see her desire fulfilled, take the remnants of what had been her short life and insure that whatever aid she had given him did not go to waste. Her wants would be his.  _ Her _ revenge would be his. 

Naraku died, and that weight had been lifted, and then― 

She had come back.

She had come back and thrown everything out of order

He’d carried the weight of her life for months, and then to have those crimson eyes looking at him again, without fear, without calculations, without manipulation, but with  _ something  _ else… maybe something like friendship―at the time he hadn’t dared to think of anything more than that. But still, he’d pushed it away because Kagura was Kagura and she’d already died once for her freedom. Naraku was gone. That was the end of it. No reason for her to hang around or for him to care what became of her. No reason for him to question how that ache in his chest had burrowed itself so deeply that for the four years following, he hated the smell of a storm.

There had been the odd curiosity, now and then, of what she’d made of her freedom, but any time the thought would float through his head he’d diligently push it away, only for her to destroy every attempt simply by showing up where he’d least expected; bringing those memories and those feelings back to the forefront of his mind. At every turn, her tinkling laughter haunted him. When she danced he couldn't take his eyes away, her movements captivating and the elation at being free flowing through her bones. He saw her smile, wholehearted; in mirth, in amusement, in mischief, in glee. Her inky black hair peppered with snow, as the flakes melted on her cheeks and caused her to flush pink. Her eyes glinting in candlelight as she appraised him, teased and taunted him. Even in anger, in battle, she was fierce, the winds at her command, and he couldn't tear his eyes away.

She’d always been bold, and he'd let his own pride get the better of him, thinking that he could simply ignore it and it would go away, as so many other things in his life. But she’d been there, so close, with her scent invading his senses, clouding his judgement and bringing that desire bubbling to the surface. She’d been warm in his arms, he’d felt every curve and dip, the press of her weight against him when she inhaled, and her lips―he’d found himself wanting more,  _ craving  _ it, suddenly apathetic to the cavern of bones they stood in, so long as he could push her down amongst them― 

But then that damn jingle had sounded in his ears, and torn between that and the delicious sound of her moan, he’d chosen to pull away, remembering why he’d sworn off any involvement with her in the first place.

He’d returned to solidify his claim to the title of General, to ensure that his strength and the power he’d attained would be respected, to show them all that he had in fact surpassed his father. And whatever Kagura had made of her life, of her travels, of her time spent with gods or in the keeps of youkai lords, he had no interest in being nothing more than a conquest, a way to pass the time, of her abusing the history they shared, or in getting involved with the ramifications of such affairs. 

He knew desire, knew the ache envy could inspire.

And wanting no part of any of it, Sesshoumaru walked away.

* * *

Embarrassed didn’t begin to cover it.

Ashamed would imply she’d done something wrong, and she refused to even entertain that notion.

It was more like… 

Humiliated. Mortified. Completely and utterly  _ demeaned _ .

Not the first time he’d had her feeling like that, but probably the worst out of the bunch.

His eyes avoided her now, passing over her as if she wasn't there. When she performed he was always conspicuously absent or  _ enthralled― _ as much as was possible for him―in conversation with his mother or his uncle or that bitch Ginhime or whoever the hell was close enough so long as he didn’t have to look at her.

She wanted to scream at him, do  _ something _ , but she knew that it would be pointless, wasn’t stupid enough to embarras herself anymore than she already had. Sesshoumaru was back to his old cold self; and she wasn't going to chase after a man who wasn't interested.

So, fine, she'd resolved to crush her little infatuation under her heel, and be done with it.

That hadn't meant that she was going to run away…

“You're grimacing again.”

She was going to ignore that.

“If you want to leave, let's just go. I'm over the cold as it is.” Achara had, unsurprisingly, gotten tired of Kagura's attitude within the first day.

“No, I’m staying another week,” Kagura said, taking a long gulp from her bottle. She was nothing if not stubborn, and at this point she had a point to prove. She didn't care, his rejection hadn't bothered her. In fact, she was completely unperturbed. So unperturbed that she was going to subject herself to this nonsense until the end of the festival because she  _ did not care _ . She had nothing to run from. She could deal with his pointed avoidance and his mother’s stares, and the next time the little fox came sniffing around her a little too obviously she’d be sure to beat him bloody.

Achara groaned and rolled their eyes. “You're such an idiot.”

Kagura hummed, taking another gulp and keeping her gaze on the center of the room. Some bitch was plucking at a koto and the music was hardly a distraction. These “feasts” were getting tiring.

“―Hey! She’s not allowed to leave me!” Hotaru hissed, leaning over her shoulder, already drunk and red in the face. He punctuated his words with several solid pokes to her shoulder. Kagura shrugged him off and snatched the bottle he had in his grasp, the fox groaned, but let her take it without a fight before slinking back over to the man he’d been drinking with, giving Kagura final wink and putting his finger to his lips. She rolled her eyes. 

At the very least Momiji had left her be for once, probably assuming that it was better to leave things well enough alone. The oni was still clinging to Gajou’s arm, but knew better than to drag Kagura along as she usually did, a small consolation though it was definitely blood boiling everytime she glanced over to see them all circled around each other. It wasn’t as if she’d  _ enjoyed  _ her time spent with them, but the laughter and muted conversation that tickled her ears made her teeth grind.

“I’m going outside.” She needed fresh air, but her vision swam when she stood up too quickly. Achara following behind her with a sigh.

As if the wind had changed to match her moods, the last several nights had been frigidly cold, the weather having finally turned to a true blistering winter. Kagura breathed it in, the cold stinging her nose and biting at her cheeks, a welcome little distraction though it hardly affected her the same way it did the bird beside her. Achara was already wrapped up in their own wings, teeth chattering and desperately trying to blow the warmth back into their fingers. 

“You didn’t have to come with me.”

“Being inside isn’t much better, at least I don’t have to listen to the bad music,” they muttered, joining her along the narrow walkway that wound around the side of the building. Kagura didn’t feel like stopping and at least walking would keep Achara a little warmer, and Kagura did as best she could to keep the air still as they went. As foolish as they surely looked, stomping along the veranda, it gave her something to do, a reason for her blood to move, each footstep something to think on rather than the constant stomach roiling humiliation that had taken root in her belly and refused to leave. It didn’t help that her mind insisted on reminding her of that night any time she let it wander, bringing heat to her face and a grimace to her lips.

A gust not of her own making swept through them, bringing a chill strong enough to freeze even her bones, behind her Achara screeched into their feathers and Kagura did her best to temper it just enough to ease the chill. She turned, following the direction of the breeze, only to see a caravan coming through the gate, two carriages led by a dog in human form and three giant silver dogs flanking it. Quite the little spectacle, with the way the four legged dogs were presenting themselves, all high headed with their fur puffed. If she was stupid she might buy into the illusion that they were the ones to fear, but Kagura knew better than to underestimate the man heading them. Another silver haired dog, no moon on his forehead but a single red line running in the hollows of his cheekbones, golden eyed and with fur draped loosely around his shoulders. 

Kagura sneered. The most irritating fucking thing about being here was that all the dogs looked the damn same, right down to their snooty attitudes, and whoever the hell this was wasn’t any fucking different. She felt the disgust boiling in her belly, even more so when Ginhime materialized on the steps and ran out into the snow to greet him.

“Let’s go back in.”

Achara readily complied.

* * *

From the corner of his eye he watched her leave, watched her come back, the same tense set to her shoulders, and he resolutely ignored it. Comfort was not in his nature, and any attempt at doing so would be misconstrued, if need be he’d simply suffer through the uncomfortable itch at the back of his neck for the remainder of the festival and be done with it. It would be best for the both of them.

The oni still clung to his uncle’s arm, which he supposed was out of his control, but he  _ could  _ still snap at her when she gave him a much too calculating stare. She may have been something of a friend to Kagura, but so far as he was concerned she had no business sticking her nose in his, and if she kept at it she was bound to lose it.

His mother’s voice and Jaken’s whining tickled his ear, but he cared little to decipher what it was they were saying, Ginhime had disappeared a few minutes ago―a reprieve for which he was grateful―and his uncle was laughing about something. The only one he marginally tolerated was Aporo, a dog older than his mother but with no human form and unable to speak any language that would get on his nerves.

A hush fell over the crowd, the silence piquing his ears, and when he looked up Ginhime was standing at the main entrance with a grin on her face― 

“Oh, I was wondering when he would come,” his mother tittered, “I suppose he’s trying to take after how you used to be, fashionably late with a grand entrance.”

―and her brother at her side. Kinjirou, a dog maybe less than a century younger than he, a cousin more closely related to his father than his mother. He’d still been a youth the last time they’d seen each other, but that had been some seven decades ago, he’d grown into a man in the time since, and even Sesshoumaru could begrudgingly admit their similarities, though he did wonder if that was by choice on Kinjirou’s part. Sesshoumaru almost envied him for being bold enough to come so late, and wondered if he should have done the same.

“He did always look up to you, you know.” Yes, and that may have been acceptable when he’d been a child, but Sesshoumaru raised his chin when the man’s gaze fell on him and his eyes lit in something like anticipation. 

They made their way through the scattered crowd, watched by dogs while the guests turned their attentions back to their conversations, unconcerned with the newcomer they had no reason to care for. And though Sesshoumaru tried not to notice, there was a vibrant set of ruby eyes watching Kinjirou’s progress across the floor very closely. He stopped only a few feet beyond their small circle, greeting his mother and Gajou politely before turning his attention to Sesshoumaru.

“Well, isn’t this an auspicious occasion?” Kinjirou grinned, a wide and self satisfied thing as he swung out his arm, gesturing at the group of them. “I had heard that you would be in attendance, cousin, but I almost hadn’t believed it.”

“Of course, Kinjirou,” Sesshoumaru raised his chin and regarded him with the quirk of a brow, “I’m sure my presence was greatly missed at the last festival. I hope you still enjoyed yourself.”

The corner of Kinjirou’s mouth faltered, a miniscule little twitch that he recovered from in the blink of an eye. 

“I’m sure this year will be even more eventful with you here, Sesshoumaru, and I for one am glad that you’ve decided to attend.” He twirled a lock of his loose hair around a finger. “I’m sure you’re here to finally make your claim as general?”

He hadn’t sat down yet, and having to crane his neck and look up at him was making Sesshoumaru’s hackles rise. Despite the music still playing, the crowd was most definitely quieter than it had been before Kinjirou’s appearance. His mother and uncle were silent, eyes diverted to their hands or to the floor, waiting for the tension to pass and for Kinjirou to get whatever he was trying to get at over with. On the other hand, Ginhime looked positively chuffed, watching the scene unfold.

“It seems fitting, doesn’t it? Unless you know of someone more capable?” Sesshoumaru drawled.

Kinjirou barked out a laugh. “Oh, I wouldn’t dare! Even I’ve heard the stories by now, of how strong you’ve become. I suppose you take after your father in that way… I always admired him, you know.”

Ah. There it was. 

“I never did get to express my condolences to you,” Kinjirou continued, “such a shame, what happened to him.”

“Your sympathy is noted―” 

“He  _ was _ an impressive beast, to say the least, I’m sure we weren't the only ones disappointed at his passing,” his mother chimed in, taking a sharp drag from her pipe, “I know you in particular, Kinjirou, admired him, didn’t you?”

“I’m sure I wasn’t the only one.” Kinjirou’s bright yellow eyes turned to his mother, the glint of a fang between his lips. “Which is why I was so thrilled to hear that his son was looking to take his place, and why―” he suddenly turned and snapped his fingers, “―I thought I would bring a little gift for you, a homecoming token, you could say…”

At the other end of the hall, a dog appeared, a great white face that solidified from the darkness. Almost too tall for the room meant for humanoid beings, he had to duck his head to clear the beams of the ceiling, which meant that the crate tied up with chains and dangling from his jaws dragged across the floor. It gouged deep rivets into the tatami, the deafening sound of the wound straw shredding finally silenced the entire crowd, all manner of heads turning to watch the spectacle.

“Kinjirou, you’re making a mess of the floors,” his mother chided, “this castle isn’t so young anymore, you know...”

From the corner of his eye, and without intention, Sesshoumaru caught sight of Kagura, stood stock still against the far wall, a tight grip on the foreign bird at her side, and an expression he hadn’t seen before― 

The crate hit the floor with a thundering crack, the boards nearly splintering on impact, so beaten was the lumber, but as deafening as it had been it wasn’t nearly loud enough to overpower the high pitched shriek that sounded from inside. Sesshoumaru inhaled, the crate had enough gaps to allow air to pass through, enough to let him pick up the scent.

“Kinjirou…” His mother’s voice held the question Sesshoumaru wouldn’t dare to acknowledge, but his cousin ignored it.

“I thought I should bring a little something to celebrate, I’m sure you understand.”

Kinjirou gave the crate a heavy smack, and whatever charms had held it together broke apart, the sides of it falling away to reveal the cargo he’d already known was inside.

Children. Human children. One boy, one girl. The girl might have been an adolescent, the onset of womanhood clear on her face and form, but the boy looked to be nothing more than a toddler. Maybe once, they'd been plump little things, but by the skin hanging from their bones and the sallow look of their faces, they had been held captive for some time. The girl's long hair was matted down her back. Their once opulent robes were tattered and soiled as they clung to each other, shaking in terror at the sight of the youkai now licking their lips at the apparent meal. Tears rolled down the girl’s cheeks, carving lines through the dirt that stained her face while she shielded the boy against her chest.

Several whoops and whistles echoed around them, hungry eyes and those looking for a spectacle. Sesshoumaru smoothed his face, ignoring the doleful gaze of the girl in favor of leveling as dull a stare as he could manage at his cousin. He opened his mouth to speak, but his mother’s sharp  _ tut!  _ of disgust stopped him.

“ _ Kinjirou. _ ” She covered her mouth with her sleeve. “They are  _ diseased _ .”

Kinjirou blinked, his face falling at the apparent reprimand, but he recovered quickly. “Ah, yes, well I've brought them from the south after all, they are prized children of the human's ‘godly emperor,’ they refused to eat on the journey, you see.”

Gajou snorted and several amongst the crowd murmured their curiosity while Sesshoumaru found his voice.

“I would think you would take better care of your supposed token,” he drawled. “You intended for us to eat them?”

The murmurs and excited whispers fizzled out, and while Kinjirou’s smile never faded, his sister had begun to look worried, her eyes flickering between Sesshoumaru and his mother and a deep furrow forming between her brows.

“I honestly hadn’t thought about it, but if that was your preference…” 

The children’s whimpering was grating on his ears, and the stink of unwashed human was almost dizzying, but of all of them the girl’s eyes were firmly stuck on him, terrified, even as she attempted to shield the boy. She flinched when Gajou leaned forward, her attention ripped away for the briefest second as she trembled. Sesshoumaru sneered.

“How  _ insulting _ .” 

Kinjirou's smile fell and the shock on his face would have been delightful under any other circumstance.

“Don’t look so disappointed, boy! What did you expect, bringing them here looking like  _ that _ ? ” Gajou laughed out loud, fangs poking over his lip as he grinned. “Hardly enough bone to pick my teeth with. I’ll commend you for trying, though.”

“Do get rid of them, Kinjirou.” His mother still had her sleeve to her nose. “They stink like death as it is. You should know I have a sensitive stomach.”

Kinjirou's brow furrowed, taken aback, but then he nodded slowly as if coming to a conclusion. He took a step back, and the children shrank away when he approached and stepped onto the remnants of the crate beside them. “Of course, right away.”

Sesshoumaru ignored him, his gaze finding a pair of emerald green eyes peering at him from across the room. The boy was resourceful, if Kinjirou threw the children out into the snow, the fox would be the first to run looking for them, though Sesshoumaru had an inkling that Jaken would be not far behind. 

“My apologies, I hope you all know I meant no offense.” Kinjirou shook his head, woeful, and slapped a hand on both of their shoulders, eliciting a whimper from the girl as he gripped them tight. Sesshoumaru’s hackles rose, but he stayed firm in his seat even as his cousin sighed―“Though it is unfortunate, but I should have known that our former general still held some influence here.”

And with that, he raked his claws through their throats.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t worry, this is my last throwaway villain of the week for this fic, but i did have to chop this chapter in half because it was just getting out of control


	16. Frostbite II

The metallic smell of blood was strong enough to upset even her nose, the stink of it heavy as it wafted through the crowd. There was a beat of silence, onlookers shocked by the sudden display, but just as quickly there was a shout, and the crowd erupted into chaos: howling and whooping, the scent inciting a fervor they hadn’t yet exhausted during the weeks they’d been in attendance. The giant dogs that flanked the crowd the only thing holding them back, away from the corpses as they slumped forward, choking and gasping into pools of their own blood. At her side, Achara stifled a gasp behind their hands, and Kagura kept a tight grip on their shoulder even as her stomach turned, the idea of killing a child not sitting right, but nowhere near Achara’s level of horror, or that of the fox kit across the room, who looked like he might vomit. And in the center… 

“Kinjirou…”

“You said to be rid of them, is this not what you meant?” He made a wide gesture with his arms, flicking the blood from his fingers, and though she couldn’t see it, Kagura was sure there was a grin still plastered to his face. “I’m sure someone here will gladly clean up the bodies.”

That much was certainly true, the dog nearest her was nearly drooling on the floor, but even Sesshoumaru’s mother looked disgusted by the display, her lip was surely curled behind the screen of her sleeve as she looked down her nose at the corpses. Beside her, Sesshoumaru was almost a perfect mirror, disdain marring his features as he slowly rose to his feet. 

Kagura held her breath. For all his attitudes, his nonchalance and disgust for the world, Sesshoumaru was set in his own morality, and if she was right, killing children was something he would not abide. But, he calmly stepped up to his cousin, close enough that his socks were in danger of turning red, as wide as the pool of blood had grown, and looked down at the two bodies with a sneer of disgust.

“If this was meant as a slight at my father, you’ve done a poor job of it, Kinjirou,” he said, his lip curled, “killing a starved human child or two is hardly an accomplishment. I’d think you’d want for more of a challenge.”

Kinjirou’s shoulders straightened just a little, and Kagura felt the pressure of his sharp exhale, but whether it was a sigh or a snort she couldn’t quite tell. 

“I suppose you’re right, maybe I should have brought a woman,” He let out a soft chuckle then. “Or I should have found some misbegotten hanyou, that certainly would have been more of a challenge, wouldn’t it? Not by much, but it would have certainly done his legacy justice.”

“You’re lucky I’m not my father, Kinjirou. Family or not your head would already be rolling for the insult.” Sesshoumaru’s steps were slow as he stepped through the puddle, staining his feet red until he and his cousin were nose to nose. Kinjirou resolutely held his ground. “Tell me, did you have another show up your sleeve? I’d hate to see you waste it.”

“I hate to disappoint, but unfortunately―” 

Whatever half-assed excuse he’d meant to voice didn’t get a chance to leave his throat before Sesshoumaru’s hand was wrapped around the column of his neck.

“Then  _ stop talking _ .”

For all the shock that played out across his posture, the split second after Sesshoumaru’s claws began to dig pinpricks into his flesh, when he still hadn’t decided whether to fight or flee, Kinjirou recovered from it well, and had his own claws swiped at Sesshoumaru’s face within the next blink.

Around them the room seemed to lift, a gasp rolling through them, as if the draw of the fight pulled on the crowd just as much as the two men involved, cheers and hollers becoming deafening in the excitement. Up till then, it had been guests or the four-legged dogs, fist fights or snapping matches that ended in seconds, and while they resulted in injuries, none so far had resulted in a casualty, but with the way Sesshoumaru bodily threw his cousin across the room, snapping the support beams as Kinjirou’s body collided with the thick wood, Sesshoumaru quick behind him, Kagura thought that might just change before the sun rose.

Bloody footprints stained the floor as the chaos spilled out into the night, the other youkai, dogs and spirits alike unperturbed by the mutilated corpses of the children, the bodies nothing more than an object in their path, something to be stepped over and pushed aside, spreading the viscera as they went and uncaring of the vibrant red stains on the soles of their feet.

Kagura, swept up in the motion of the crowd, followed suit, her hand slipping away from Achara’s shoulders as she ran to the railing and threw herself against it, the wood digging into her belly as she leaned over, trying to get a better view of the two men below. Sesshoumaru and Kinjirou stood facing each other, posture severe, claws and fangs bared, both their eyes a violent shade of red, Sesshoumaru snarled something Kagura couldn’t quite catch, and as much as she might have enjoyed being beside his cousin, the thrill of showing him what for, there was suddenly a frigid trickle of fear running across her skin as Kinjirou’s flesh suddenly sloughed away, and a snarling, vicious dog four times her own height replaced him.

“Kagura!”

The sound of her name made her head spin, and she turned to look over her shoulder at Achara. With the crowd busy at the railing, the vibrant red splatter across the floor was even more disturbing, sparkling in the candlelight, the liquid working its way into Achara’s saffron robes as they knelt in the gore beside the corpses. Not known for their strength, Achara futilely tried to lift both children onto the robe they’d discarded to carry the bodies. A wasted effort, with the giant dog, Aporo, lapping at the blood and sniffing at the boy’s leg like it might hazard a try at taking a bite. Achara screeched at it to no avail, and yanked on the boy’s collar, his head falling to the side to reveal the brutality of Kinjirou’s claws, his neck a gory, bloodied smile, the gash clean through the boy’s throat and revealing the barest glint of the white of his spine on the other side. What blood hadn’t yet hardened continued to spill as Achara pulled him, still screaming at the dog.

The castle gave a violent shake, and her attention went back to the dogs, two now, more menacing than before, their youki nearly tangible in the air, driven by their rage as the sound of their snarls was deep enough to make the floorboards tremble.

“ _ Kagura! _ ”

She cursed and slammed a fist against the railing, sparing the dogs a final glance before she spun around and rushed back to Achara. The fox kit had joined in the chaos, swatting at Aporo who had the corpse’s leg in its jaws, tugging insistently as Achara tried to rip the corpse away from it, the girl forgotten on the floor. A tool then. Kagura extended her fan and the body came back to life, its head rolling to the side even as Kagura made it bend to her will, to kick and scratch at the dog’s eyes. Not very strong, but the shock of the reanimated corpse had the dog backing away with a curl to its lip, fangs bared and tail tucked at the unnatural thing before it.

Kagura was at Achara’s side in the next second, but did not release the girl’s corpse, positioning the thing over Achara as they wrapped the boy up in their robe. Another roar erupted from outside, followed by a violent tremor that shook the castle's walls and dropped dust upon their heads. Above the heads of the crowd, Kagura spotted a flash of white fur, but Achara’s hand tugging at her sleeve forced her to look away, the gaping maw of a different dog demanding her attention as Aporo began to edge closer to the corpses again. A final swipe of her fan and the dog decided it could find an easier meal.

Loathe as she was to leave the spectacle behind, Kagura knew better than to stay behind, Shippou did not hesitate to follow, running on all fours, while Achara clutched the body to their chest and was quick behind her as she led the corpse out of the hall, their footsteps punctuated by the tremors and shakes that wracked the castle, the rumbling each time the dogs snarled and bared their fangs.

What youkai hadn’t been in attendance earlier were certainly emerging now, curious about the noise and the quakes, briefly stunned by the corpse that pushed past them, but too caught up in the excitement of a fight to pay them much mind as they hurried deeper into the castle.

  
  
  
  


It wasn’t hard for her to find the gap in the wall, she’d spent several days making sure it was still there before she’d gone and been humiliated, and it seemed the path was still open to her, as she snatched Achara by their collar and bodily pushed them through the barrier, the fox and the corpse not far behind. The static of the barrier clung to them, and Kagura slowed her sprint once they were all on the other side.

“Why the hell did you need to get involved?” Kagura spat, not stopping to check on them. Instead she stomped on down the corridor, arms crossed and scowling at the floor. Already, she regretted pulling them through, but knew nowhere else that they wouldn’t be disturbed.

“You know why,” Achara's voice was hesitant, the echo soft against the jagged rocky walls, “I wouldn't have done anything, but I couldn't leave them like that.”

Kagura only acknowledged that with a sigh and kept walking, knowing that even now if she squinted over her shoulder, those atrocious little imps would be scampering along behind them, trying to yank and tear at the bodies. Their footsteps were like an echo in her ears, something she’d learned to hate as soon as she’d developed the ability to see them, an ability she’d prefer to do without.

The four of them―Kagura, Achara, the fox, and the corpse―made their way through the tunnel in silence, nothing but their footsteps to punctuate their passage. They slowed as soon as they reached the cavern, an appropriate place to bring corpses, even as Kagura resolutely ignored the little dip in the floor as she walked past and led them to a larger gap in the bones. Achara seemed like they were content to ignore the macabre decoration, but the boy gasped at the sight, frozen to the spot while Achara went to the floor to lay the boy down. She followed suit, leading the girl to the center and directing her to lay back on the floor. Achara paused a moment, hovering over their bodies until the girl’s corpse finally settled, a grimace on their face.

“You know I hate when you do that.”

“Would you have preferred to carry it? I know I wouldn't,” Kagura muttered as she turned away and found herself a nice perch in the upturned jawbone of some giant creature, she leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest, content to glare at the skull stacked wall. Achara grumbled something else she didn't quite catch, their voice interrupted by a rumble through the mountain, strong enough for stones to fall from the ceiling and for the skulls to clatter loudly until the shockwave dissipated, leaving behind only the sound of water dripping somewhere far away.

Achara settled on the ground beside the corpses with a solemn sigh, their hands clasped in front of their face and eyes closed, their lips moved minisculely, muttering words Kagura had never bothered to learn. The fox stood to the side, wringing his hands while his eyes never left the bodies. Such a pitiful little display.

“Are you missing your humans yet, fox?” 

Shippou jumped at her voice, his tail puffed in shock but he was quick to smooth it back down and shake a tiny fist at her. 

“As if you haven’t done worse things, Kagura!”

She rolled her eyes and tutted. “Not with  _ children _ …”

“Both of you, hush, please.”

Kagura snapped her mouth shut at Achara’s reprimand, choosing to glare at the wall and allow the bird the time they needed. Shippou calmed and found himself a spot on the floor between the two of them, his back to Kagura despite the accusation he’d made only seconds before, an odd display of trust. The drip, drip, drip, of water somewhere in the caves continued, the only sound once the tremors and quakes finally diminished. The hellish imps poked and prodded at their charges, the children’s souls not quite ready to leave their bodies just yet. 

Kagura chewed on the inside of her cheek, unsure if she should go see what had become of the fight, curious about the state of both dogs, about the sudden silence that permeated the mountain, even as she resisted the urge to rub the soles of her feet together to slake off the dried blood between her toes. The incessant dripping was close to driving her insane, especially with Achara’s muttering and the kit’s fiddling with his clothes, but― 

A draft piqued her awareness, a sudden chill coming from up one of the tunnels, a shift that nearly had her jumping to her feet with her fan extended, but upon further probing, she merely clicked her tongue and turned back to the wall. Though her aggravation and feigned nonchalance didn’t stop her from straining to watch from the corner of her eye as Sesshoumaru emerged from the tunnel’s opening, looking as dour as ever, the little toad fast on his heels, a sheathed sword in his hand and a growing red stain across his chest, sickly brown in the dull light. He held himself stern, trying not to betray the injury, but it seemed Kinjirou had been able to get in his fair share of hits.

He strode forward to the center of the cavern, his steps even, to where Achara still had their eyes closed above the corpses, he stopped just behind them while the little fox jumped to his feet, his neck craned to look up at the dog even as he backed away. Sesshoumaru ignored her and the fox both, his gaze stuck on the bodies as he towered over Achara.

“ _ Move _ .”

Kagura nearly fell from her perch, how  _ dare _ he―but Achara merely continued their muttering, either ignorant or willfully ignoring the youkai at their back. Kagura tutted, a loud thing in the silence of the caves. 

“Leave them alone, Sesshoumaru.” 

Not even a flinch or a glance. Kagura felt her hackles rising as she finally turned her head to watch.

“I said  _ move _ .”

That was  _ it.  _ She jumped to her feet, uncaring of what the injured and petulant dog might do as she stomped over and placed herself between them, the tiny space where her calves brushed against Achara’s spine, she had to strain her arms to avoid his chest even as she jammed the tip of her fan at his face. 

“And  _ I _ said leave them alone!”

His gaze slowly slid to hers, his usually golden eyes a luminescent green in the light as he looked down his nose at her. He was holding his breath again, she could feel the restraint in him, his arms straight at his sides, his left hand tightly gripping the scabbard of his sword. The first time he'd met her gaze in three days, but she still felt the scalding hot burn of humiliation coiling down her spine, more powerful than the loathing and barely tempered rage clear in his eyes as he glared at her. She could feel his aura lashing the air, barely contained and furious, but she kept her spine straight, head held high. She would not cower from him. 

His eyes flickered between hers, and he finally inhaled, his face softening just a hair when his lips parted, there was a tug at her sleeve… 

“ _ Kagura―”  _

“―let him.”

She tore her eyes away and looked down at the fox, the fabric of her sleeve still gripped in a tiny fist and looking up at her with watery green eyes. He tugged again, pleading. 

She blinked, confused. Why the hell should she? She no longer had a reason to listen to the damned son of a bitch other than being polite, which she had no intention of doing. But the boy still kept staring at her, begging with each tiny tug of her sleeve, and when she raised her eyes again, the man in question wore a similar expression. More open than she’d seen in days, almost like how he’d been before she’d gone and screwed everything to hell, soft and tender and warm. There was a plea in his eyes, just the same as the boys, just one he wouldn’t voice, probably out of some misplaced idea of pride, but she felt her resolve crumbling under that stare, her posture slipping, seeking out his warmth in the damp, dark caverns― 

Kagura pursed her lips and took a deep breath, giving Sesshoumaru one final glance before she conceded and turned to grab Achara. At first they swatted her hands away, but a firmer tug and the bird was dragged away with a hiss until they were outside of Sesshoumaru’s reach. Achara struggled a bit as they awakened from their stupor, a little dazed and confused, but settled once they felt the tension in her grip. 

It seemed that now he'd looked at her he wouldn't stop, Sesshoumaru watched them step back, his eyes following her every movement. She wanted to snap, to tell him to get on with it, make her stop questioning herself, but that solemn stare held her tongue until he finally turned away and drew the sword.

She didn’t quite remember this one, had never seen him use it in battle, didn’t even know the name of the damn thing, couldn’t remember if Naraku had ever schemed over it or not. She’d only seen him draw it the once against the guardians of the gate to the next world, but he hadn’t even swung it then. It looked just like any other sword, but as he held the blade over the corpses, it felt as if the air had suddenly gone several degrees colder, and the longer he held it the more she started to understand what the guardians had seen in the blade that at the time she hadn’t been able to. The ethereal glow of it, the pulse of power.

He paused only a second, the span of a breath, before he swung, the blade slicing through the air and the pallbearers in one clean strike.

Kagura’s eyes went wide and her grip slid away from Achara, who was quick to return to the children’s side with soothing words and gentle hands as their flesh knit back together, as they began to cough and choke on the stale and bloodied air that had been trapped in their lungs. 

Sesshoumaru sheathed his sword and stepped away, retreating until his back was nearly against the wall of skulls. He’d calmed, but there was still tension in his posture, the pain from his injury finally catching up to him―he glanced up at her briefly―or maybe aggravation at her presence. That was fine. She’d start swinging at him herself if he wasn’t already so sad looking.

Achara continued to fuss and coo at the children, the little imp looked as annoyed as he ever was, and the fox seemed calm, watching quietly as the humans regained themselves. Once they’d regained their bearing and Sesshoumaru finally did step off the wall and approach them, the girl shrunk into herself, shielding her brother in the circle of her arms.

“Jaken, go find them new clothes.”

The imp jumped to attention, sputtering an acknowledgment before he ran off, flat feet slapping against the stone floors as he went. Sesshoumaru directed his gaze at Achara next.

“There is a temple south east of here, near the coast, when he returns you will take them there.” 

Kagura opened her mouth but the girl spoke before she could manage.

“You're… setting us free…?” 

Sesshoumaru scoffed. “I have no interest in human children.”

The girl’s shoulders began to tremble as her eyes flooded with tears, anxiety and terror truly catching up to her now. Her clothes were still torn, hair still matted against her skull, and she was still covered from throat to hip in her own sticky coagulated blood. In her arms, her brother, looking much the same, buried his face against her breast.

“Th-thank you, youkai-sama,” she said, the word heavy in her mouth as if she wasn’t really sure if she meant it.

There was a beat of silence before Shippou bounded forward up to them, a timid smile on his face. He kept his distance, but the girl still leaned away from him, unsure of the kitsune and his proximity. The fox took it in stride.

“Don’t worry, you'll be alright. Sesshoumaru is usually grumpy and kind of mean, but he can be nice, too,” he said with a wide grin and a nod, trying to console her.

“ _ Shippou. _ ”

The boy flinched at his name and turned to the scowling dog with a forced laugh, trying to defuse the tension despite the menacing glare Sesshoumaru shot at him. Shippou shivered, but either he’d grown braver over the years or he’d simply become accustomed to Sesshoumaru’s moods, because he did not cower away. Kagura would have found the sight almost impressive if she wasn’t too preoccupied with staring down the dog to notice. 

With his contribution done, the sword put away, it seemed he had no more reason to stay, the children were being attended to with Achara’s soothing and the fox’s showy tricks, which left Sesshoumaru standing there with nothing to do but stare. The children laughed, the boy in truth and the girl with a reserved and nervous sort of chuckle, still fearful of the youkai and the boneyard she’d come back to life in, still shooting nervous glances at the youkai who so strongly resembled her murderer. Kagura didn’t blame her, with the way he stood back amongst the shadows, the bones of his family’s enemies strewn around like war trophies. Would they have dumped the children’s bones here, she wondered, if Sesshoumaru had been feeling less than generous after his little ordeal and left them for dead. 

He must have grown tired of her prodding stare, because with one last chilling glance and a huff, he turned and headed for the opposite exit of the cavern. She had an idea where he was going, but still, watching his retreating back and listening to his heavy steps didn’t leave her feeling any more benevolent than before. She kept her thoughts to herself and watched him go, the sword still tightly gripped in his hand, until he disappeared beyond the tunnels and his footsteps faded, until she was sure he was out of earshot.

“Shippou.” The boy jumped again, shocked out of whatever trick he’d been working on. “How long has he had that sword?”

He turned to her and craned his neck to see her face, one eyebrow raised. “I don’t know. Since before I met him, I guess.”

She fidgeted with her fan, running her thumb along the paper’s edge, and pulled her lip between her teeth. There had been the spark of a memory, of that day in the meadow, he’d had his hand on a sword, she hadn’t realized which, hadn’t had the presence of mind to remember the names of the swords at his hip or to question why he’d bother drawing a sword when they’d never been enemies, why he’d bother at all when she’d already been dying at his feet…

“How long has he―” The boy waited for her to finish, watching her expectantly, and even the human children looked curious. She bit down hard on the inside of her cheek, feeling agitated, more out of her element now than when he’d rejected her. The question she truly wanted answered thundering in her head and only growing louder the longer she stared at the crack in the rock he’d vanished into. “You know what… Nevermind.” 

She could find out herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t like character heavy chapters, but all in all it didn’t turn out so bad, right?


	17. Smuir

Sesshoumaru could almost count on one hand the number of times he’d been well and truly furious.

The first that came to mind… well that had been when he’d discovered that Tessaiga was meant for Inuyasha. An irredeemable insult. The second had been when Inuyasha had made some claims to grandeur and cut off the dragon’s arm he’d procured for himself. Laughable, that a hanyou dared to stand at the same level as he. The third had been when he’d realized that the killing Tenseiga was  _ also  _ meant for Inuyasha. Demoralizing. And as for the fourth― 

He didn’t need to think too hard on it, especially when the catalyst in question was sauntering along behind him as if she had a right to. 

His chest stung, the bite Kinjirou had dealt him far from fatal but deep enough to display a cracked rib or two. Sesshoumaru had returned the favor in kind and more, the taste of his cousin’s blood still thick on his tongue, and it was a heady sort of pleasure to know that Kinjirou would be licking his wounds for days to come―for all the fury that raged at him to simply put the dog down and be done with it. That thought did rankle, that he’d held himself back, that Kinjirou would live to see another day, but it wouldn’t serve for Sesshoumaru to go murdering his cousin, as much as the insolent brat deserved it. It would be the least Kinjirou deserved for the egregious little stunt he’d tried to pull tonight.

A test. That’s all it had been. To prove that he wasn’t his father. That he hadn’t inherited the same predilections. A witty little insult. 

It had worked, to be sure. But Kinjirou was lucky that he wasn’t as clever as he’d thought himself to be, that he hadn’t had the idea to go digging any deeper, to start asking questions, to follow the rumors. The human emperor’s children were of no consequence to Sesshoumaru. But if his cousin had been any smarter, had found himself pawing through a human village to the east… Sesshoumaru would have torn his head from his shoulders and razed the castle to the ground without hesitation.

That thought had his blood boiling all over again, and it was only a small consolation that Kinjirou was sure to sulk around until the end of the festival with his tail between his legs. Hopefully his sister would be smart enough to do the same. But if not… there were always some casualties during the Hunt. 

He’d only just been able to reign in that rage and bloodlust when he’d gone to revive those children, but now, alone and dealing with the ache and sting of his wound as he peeled his robes away from his blood caked skin, it was starting to bubble back to the surface. At least the steam was starting to bead and sweat on his skin, flaking off the blood and leaving tracks as it dripped down his belly and chest. He’d hoped that time alone with the monotonous rumble of the hot springs would allow him to cool his head, to wait until his flesh had knit back together before he went back out to face his family.

Evidently, the one woman he’d have preferred to avoid had other ideas.

The sound of her shuffling footsteps echoed down the tunnel, louder than the sound of the water cascading down to the floor, soft but almost deafening to his ears until her steps stopped just inside the little cavern and he could feel her gaze needling his naked back. He did not turn to look at her, not when his blood was running so hot, and left his soiled robe hanging around his hips. As it was, the electric scent of her was already invading the air, headier than the sticky humidity of the springs; even the mineral scent of the water, within arms reach, wasn’t enough to dull it. 

Heat curled along his spine the longer she lingered, silently watching him. She fidgeted: her fabric rustled, the paper of her fan crinkled, and he could only minutely pick up the soft sounds of her breathing. But still, she kept her distance and said nothing, until, with a growl:

“ _ Go away, Kagura.”  _ He put as much disdain into his voice as he could, hoping that it would be enough to dissuade her.

“Hm, no.” Of course not. “I don’t think I will.”

He turned, just enough to see her over his shoulder, only to realize she wasn’t even looking at him, instead her eyes were on… Tenseiga, propped up against the far wall. She had her fan pressed against her lips, looking pensive, like she’d been passing through and stopped just stare at the damn sword. He sneered, if her mission was to piss him off further, she’d certainly done it. 

“So…” Her face was too serene as she turned to look up at him. The beginnings of a trap. “Did you kill him?”

He hissed. “What does it matter?”

“Curious, is all.” She quirked a brow. “I can’t even ask you a question now?”

His sneer grew, his lip curled over his fangs. She looked so nonchalant, so utterly comfortable, with a self-possessed cock to her hips and one arm folded over her chest, bloody red eyes glowing in the dim light. She gave him a long once over, as if she was assessing him, his injuries, maybe, and he felt the heat rising on the back of his neck, but was unsure whether it was due to the sweltering steam catching up with him or because of her stare.

“How long have you had that sword?” A stupid thing to ask.

“What does it  _ matter _ , Kagura?”

“Answer the question.”

“I don’t owe you one.”

“What a shame.” She tsked and the serenity fell away from her face, replaced with an irritated quirk in her brow. “And here I thought we could still be friends.”

_ Friends  _ was the furthest from any of the things they’d ever been. From anything they  _ could  _ be. With a roll of her eyes she moved, stepping over to where Tenseiga leaned against the rock, his eyes followed her movement until she paused, staring down at the sword until she finally reached out to run her thumb along the fabric of it’s hilt. A step too far.

“ _ Kagura―” _

“How long have you been able to raise the dead?”

Sesshoumaru nearly bit his tongue, surprised by the line of questioning. What did _any of it_ _matter?_ He’d already made it clear that he had no intention of pursuing an affair with her, he knew better than to entertain any notion of something like _friendship,_ and his blood was already running too hot, from the fury and the thrill of battle, from the steam wafting off the springs. Standing still too long left him a little lightheaded, blood loss catching up to him and numbing his fingers and the ache of his wound― 

“You had your hand on your sword…” She turned her head slowly, meeting his gaze. “That day. In the meadow.” 

He blinked. The implication of her words taking a little longer than usual to catch up with him, to make the connection, to  _ remember _ ―the meadow, white flowers stained with blood and miasma, a smile, and a complete failure―

“I was in pain, but I noticed that much,” she said, “I’d almost thought you’d come to finish the job. But even you aren’t that cruel.” 

―He didn’t  _ need _ reminding. If she wanted to make her own conclusions she was more than welcome to it. Just―not here, not now, not when her scent was as heavy as the steam and he could hardly think straight. He didn’t need to dwell on the past. A snarl curled his lip and Kagura merely tilted her head.

“Tell me why.”

No. He couldn’t hold the growl, not with her looking at him like that. He turned away, braced himself with a hand against the wet rocks. An act that felt like cowardice.

“I’m not in the mood, Kagura.”

“You’re never in the mood _ ,”  _ she hissed. Anger bubbled up in her voice, finally an emotion he could anticipate. “What is your  _ problem?  _ You might be too scared to reject me to my face but I ain’t fucking stupid, I know where I’m not wanted.” Then why― “The  _ least  _ you could do is tell me the truth. It was  _ my  _ life after all.”

It had been. And he’d spent months ruminating on that little fact. Feeling like a failure. Feeling the misbegotten guilt. The shame of proving her right. That he’d been too weak to do anything, so caught up in his own ego. His wound stung, fire spreading across his chest so hot that he nearly gasped and had to dig his claws into the wet stone to keep himself steady. 

Hold on. She’d called him a coward.

“I will not be some toy for you to amuse yourself with,” he hissed. If she wanted a rejection she could have it, it was easier to voice than any of the other things thundering around his head, the memories. The thought of speaking them into existence was more severe than the pain that wracked his belly. “You can have your fun with your gods and the bear king. I’m not interested.”

There was a beat of silence, the wind holding its breath, the only sound the water pouring into the earth. Then Kagura inhaled.

“Is that what― _ that’s  _ what you’re upset about?!” Her voice echoed in his ears, full of disbelief and indignation. She paused, took a deep breath and muttered to herself before her volume rose again. “Are you fucking… I never thought you were this damn  _ dense,  _ Sesshoumaru. You think I’m  _ fucking _ my―?!” She snarled, an almost impressive sound accompanied by the staccato of her feet stomping up behind him. “Would you fucking  _ look  _ at me?”

She snatched his right arm, above the elbow and  _ pulled.  _ He allowed her to spin him around, but only so far before his other hand snapped up to grab her wrist, squeezing just hard enough to get her to release his arm. He’d already made his little vow, he’d be sore to break it now but Kagura hardly flinched.

“You’re jealous, is that it? You’re just another dog getting possessive over a piece of meat―” a snarl curled his lip, “―don’t want a toy that someone else’s been playing with? The great Sesshoumaru- _ sama  _ too fucking good to share―”

A growl ripped out between his fangs, to hell with his promises, he dropped her wrist in favor of her throat, bodily moving her until he’d pressed her up against the damp rocky wall. The water seeped into her robes, making the fabric cling to her shoulders.

_ “Shut up.” _

“Not my fault you want to hurt your own fucking feelings,” she spat, her hands came up to press against his chest, a hand going flat against his injury but not quite hard enough to be painful. A threat. He could feel the stirrings of her power against the broken flesh, knew that he was nothing more than a body just like the corpses she puppeteered. That she could invade him if she chose― 

“You’ve been staring at me like you’ve been itching to get between my legs for  _ weeks―”  _ he snarled again, “―but someone else sticking their fingers in your honeypot is too much for you?” Beyond the burning ache of his wounds he could feel her squirm, her hand going slick with his blood. “Get―get the hell off me, you son of a bitch. Fucking―territorial dog―”

  
  
  


―Then again, she already had. Dizzying, with her pressed so close, the steam misting his skin and her scent heavy in the air, she continued to squirm against him, not quite pushing him off, but making her intentions clear, that if he didn’t release her she’d twist the proverbial knife, that if he did nothing he would never get to know what the hollow of her throat tasted like. Eyes like fire burned him, hazy in their intensity, anger and indignation and lust flushing her face―he could feel it all thrum beneath her skin, her pulse hammering against his palm, he wanted to scrape his teeth against it, feel that flutter against his lips, his tongue― 

Kagura hissed. “You gonna’ kill me or fuck me?” 

“ _ Is that what you’d have me do, Kagura? _ ” His snarl was loud even to his own ears. “Rip out your throat? Throw you down and force myself between your legs?”

“ _ Try it _ . At least then I’d know which one you’re lying about.”

Her chest heaved and her pulse still thrummed rapidly under his hand but her face betrayed nothing of fear, the only thing he could read was the challenge in her eyes, the expectant little quirk to her brow and set to her chin… 

It felt like an easy decision, and all it took was a shift in his weight, letting go. Kissing her wasn’t hard, at least it got her to stay quiet for once, the only thing left in her throat a shocked little squeak muffled against his lips. Different from the last time, when she’d been hesitant and soft, unsure of his reaction, and he’d been too shocked to push any further. This time he pushed her back, moved his hand from the hollow of her throat to grasp the back of her head and press himself closer. She’d asked him for violence, and he supposed he delivered when a fang nipped her lip and he could almost taste the salt and metal of her blood, his tongue quick to follow and delve into her mouth, lavishing in the taste of her. 

Water trickled down his chest, condensation from the steam and what splashed off her hair and robes, soaking them both. He wondered if angering him had been her goal all along when his wound began to ache, the pressure of her hand moved up his chest, leaving smeared red handprints along his skin until she found a lock of hair and  _ pulled _ ―but pressed so close, surrounded by her scent and the taste of her, he could almost ignore the pinch.

He pulled away, to catch his breath and alleviate the itching pressure on his wound. Kagura leaned her head back, a satisfied smirk on her messy lips and victory twinkling in her eyes. She reached up and roughly rubbed her thumb across his bottom lip. “You never answered my question.”

He hissed, and both hands went to her hips, pushed her under and through the waterfall, the water beating down on her head not enough to deter her open mouthed laughter even as it drenched her. The sound was intoxicating, echoing in his ears even as he pressed her back against the slick steps, a toothy smile still plastered on her face as he leaned over her and went for her throat, the space just under her jaw―why had he decided against this? He couldn’t quite remember, not with his nose pressed against her pulse, inhaling her scent―something about jealousy? A denial of desire because it would only end in drama and disappointment, but… he wondered why he’d thought he could deny himself this now that she’d pushed him, as he pressed himself against her thigh, all he wanted to do was insert himself between her legs and― 

He paused, realizing a slight problem. A growl bubbled in his throat.

“What’s wrong now? I― _ Oh.”  _ She sucked her lips between her teeth and glanced down when he pulled away. She looked like she was fighting a laugh, he couldn’t rightly blame her for it, but it still chaffed. 

“...I’ve lost too much blood.” The truth, but it felt like an excuse. 

She nodded, slowly, still biting her lips to keep from giggling as she sat up. Sesshoumaru pulled away, a growl rumbling in his chest even as he stepped back and away from her. Healing the wound would do nothing for the blood loss, not if it was so severe to―embarrassment didn’t begin to cover it. 

“Oh, don’t look so grumpy,” Kagura cooed. She adjusted her soaked robes, her eyes still bright and appraising him, knowing that no matter what: she’d won. That she’d broken his resolve. “I’m sure you aren’t the first.” 

He sneered and turned away, going back to the falls. The heat of the water would do little for his boiling blood and racing pulse, but at least it would wash away the grime and hasten the process of healing. The wound had already begun to itch before he’d stepped under the water, a good sign, but it wouldn’t hurt to make use of it, though it stung something awful.

Kagura fixed herself up and stepped past him, heading back towards the tunnel. With things as they were, he supposed she would return to her friends, and they would resume things in a few hours. If he hadn’t regained his sanity by then. Though suddenly the logic of it mattered less than it had only a few minutes ago.

“I’ll see you in the morning.” A promise. She could do with it what she liked. 

“Hn?” She turned, one brow raised. “What are you talking about?”

He blinked, water droplets weighing down his lashes. “Aren’t you going?”

“Oh.” She laughed. “You thought I was done?” She shook her head, laughing softly to herself as she placed her fan down on a solid rock, plucked her feathers from her hair and then leaned down to peel off her sopping wet socks. “You should know I take advantage of any opportunity I’m given.”

He watched as she placed her socks out to dry on another boulder and straightened, reaching for the lapels of her hanten and slipping it off her shoulders. She didn’t make it very far before she noticed his stare.

“Aren’t you going to join?” she asked, giving him one long once over.

He took a deep breath and suddenly found a little more willpower, more energy to force into his healing. A little amused by her apparent anticipation. “I’d think you’d be a little more cautious about… being with someone who already rejected you once.”

“Hn, maybe you’re right, but,” she shrugged and shot him a smirk as the hanten dropped to the floor with a wet slap, “I think I’ve learned it takes more than one try with you.”

The belt around her waist came next, coming loose as she slowly undid the tie until it joined her robe on the floor. Her kosode almost fell open, the layers of fabric still thick and clinging to her skin, without the belt her collar widened to reveal a stretch of flesh from the hollow of her throat to her belly. She stopped there. 

“Well?”

He knew what she wanted, and with the state he was in he almost refused, but his pride would not allow him to suffer another embarrassment or even the pretense of it. So with sure fingers he reached for the ties of his hakama and swiftly undid the knot, letting the fabric fall away from his hips while never breaking her gaze. 

Kagura tilted her head, her smile turning malicious as she nodded at his hips.

“That, too.”

And so the fundoshi was the next thing on the floor.

She gave him a long appraising look, her eyes roving over his skin, from the top of his head and down to his feet, pausing at his hips and then finally back up to meet his gaze as she grinned.

He knew it was some game, a power play; that she wanted him to prove himself. He kept his posture straight and his own gaze steady, refusing to cow to hers, but he couldn’t help but stare as she pulled the first layer of her kosode away and very carefully laid it on the rocks beside her fan. Each movement was painstakingly slow, each punctuated by a glance in his direction, making sure he was paying attention. It might not have bothered him so much if not for his nerve endings finally coming to life, fire erupting along his side as they mended together. He hissed and placed a hand over the wound, found that it had closed over, now nothing more than an angry red divet in his skin. At least it was no longer in danger of reopening, he wouldn’t need to worry about the bleeding. He stepped out of the water’s spray and Kagura looked up, pausing at the second robe. 

She watched him expectantly, chin raised as he approached, her grin had shrunk to that same sly little smirk as before, but it was no less potent, especially combined with the victorious glint in her eye. He stopped just out of her arm’s reach and raised a hand to her cheek, lightly trailing his claws along her skin until his thumb brushed against the brass that hung from her ears.

“Take these off.”

She blinked at him, and when she didn’t react right away, he pinched the thin metal between his thumb and index finger and  _ yanked. _

“ _ Asshole!”  _ she hissed, one hand snapped up to clutch her lobe while the other slapped at his chest with a solid thump. He crushed the loop in his fist and tossed the mutilated metal away.

“I won’t have you wearing another man’s gifts.”

“You don’t have to be such a bastard about it!” she snarled. She pulled the other hoop from her ear and threw it at him, it hit him square in the chest before bouncing off to clang against the floor. Sesshoumaru merely shrugged and turned away from her, heading back towards the steps and up to the top pool. Kagura continued to mutter and curse behind him, and he wondered if she would reconsider now, but when he turned back to enter the pool, her last two layers were already on the floor at her feet.

She looked up at him, a challenge in her eyes, but he hardly noticed, too busy giving her the same treatment she’d given him, his gaze roving over every curve and divet, the jagged shard of glass that hung between her breasts… 

“Like what you see?” She nodded at him as she reached up to pull the tie from her hair, letting it fall around her shoulders in loose curls.

He huffed. “As if it isn’t anything I’ve never seen before.”

“Oh? So you committed it all to memory?”

He tsked and tore his gaze away to a chorus of her chuckles as he stepped into the pool. The heat briefly shocked his skin, almost hot enough to numb his nerves, but he acclimated quickly enough, sinking into the water slowly until he found a comfortable seat facing her direction. 

Kagura reached for the chain around her neck, hesitating for the briefest second before she pulled the shard from her neck and placed it on the rocks beside her fan and socks, a subtle twist that gave him a fairly good view of the rest of her. It had hardly been the time or the place or the circumstance to commit it to memory the last time, but now he was certainly going to take his time to. Especially when she turned back to him and started to make her way up the steps: there was a swing to her hips, a bounce in each slow step that made the spectacle of her climb almost agonizing; he tried not to let it show on his face, but judging by the quirk to her lips she was well aware. She dipped her feet into the pool but didn’t go very far, instead she sat down at the water’s edge, her thighs squeezed together tightly as she leaned back, the arc of her spine pushing her chest forward― 

“You gonna’ stay over there the whole time?” She raised her brows. “Come here.”

He considered it, chafed under the apparent order, but he supposed he could tolerate it when the reward was already on display. He made his way towards her, only emerging from the water when he was close enough to lean forward and place his hands flat on either side of her hips. That damned smirked was still on her lips and he had a mind to wipe it away when a hand on his chest stopped him.

“Aren’t you still healing?” she asked, twirling a finger around a damp lock of his hair, gently tugging down… “I think you should stay in the water, no?”

_ Ah.  _ He hadn’t been thinking quite that far, and felt foolish for not catching on sooner. She opened her legs around his hips and gently pressed down on his shoulder, pushing him back into the water. He went willingly, fought the press of her hand only enough to lean into her just below her chin, taking the time to trail his nose along her throat, the length of her collarbone and down… his nose to take in her scent, lips and tongue to taste her skin as he went, and a hand to trace every line and curve, to touch and remember the things that made her twitch; the gentle trace of a brown nipple, down and down until the scent of her sex was nearly overwhelming, heady and sweet. He slowed just below her navel, tracing odd spiraling patterns with his nose until he came to the crease between hip and thigh, darted a tongue out to taste, to prolong it before he found himself between her thighs, inhaling deeply and reveling in the scent of her and―she was  _ laughing. _

“What's so funny?” He meant the question to be dangerous, a threat, but it came out breathy, just a little raw and low. He rose up, crawling up her body until he hovered above her. She pulled her lips between her teeth, and he couldn’t help but follow the motion.

“I was only thinking,” her voice wavered on a chuckle, “you really are a  _ dog _ .”

A growl rumbled in his chest at the insult as he rose, crawling up her body until he could raise a hand to grasp her chin and press his thumb against her lips. He pressed and she opened for him, taking him in until the clawed digit lay flat on her tongue.

“Any other time, I’d give you something useful to do with that smart mouth of yours.”

She smiled, closed her mouth around his thumb to idly lick and suck, tasting him. His lips parted, gaze stuck on the image of hers wrapped around him. She chuckled low in her throat and reached up to gently pull his hand from her chin and raised her own to gently stroke his cheek, running her thumb along his stripes.

“‘Lay with dogs and get up with fleas’, isn't that right?” she said as she tugged his face down to hers, “I doubt anyone has ever told you, but you are quite cute, Sesshoumaru. You might be a dog, but I think I'll take my chance with fleas just this once.”

  
  
  


“ _ Fleas…?”  _ He no longer had it in him to be angry, not when she had him between her legs, her warmth against his thigh, all the rage from only an hour ago had trickled away, replaced with a different sort of heat. In fact, he found himself doing something he only did when there was sure to be a great deal of bloodshed.

Sesshoumaru  _ smiled. _

It shocked even her, the smirk fell from her face. “What…?”

Before she could finish he’d sunk down between her thighs again, and within the next breath had his lips around her sex. 

Kagura gasped and threw her head back, not yet ready for such an assault, but he had little sympathy―this had been what she’d wanted, after all―lips and tongue teasing and sucking at her, darting inside when he grew tired of repeating the motion. He had to use his hands to keep her hips still, claws lightly pricking her skin as she twitched and squirmed, he pressed her back down when she raised her hips in an attempt to move him, to spur him on, trying to follow a phantom rhythm when he returned to her center with his tongue. Her hands came down around his head to try to pull him deeper in, she gasped and mewled, moaned when he slid a hand up her belly to caress a breast, ghosting his claws over her skin to taunt and tease. 

Generosity was something he usually reserved, but for once he supposed he could let her have her way. Her pulling on his hair increased, almost hard enough to seal his lips to hers as he intensified his ministrations, he moved quicker, squeezed and pressed just a little harder until her body went taught for a breath before a violent tremor wracked her, and she was gasping anew, eyes screwed shut as she rode through her pleasure, his tongue still lapping lightly at her core until it had passed.

She released her grip on him, her legs going limp on either side of his head as her breathing slowed, her chest heaved with soft little pants as he crawled back up her once again. Her eyes were still closed but she had the back of a hand rubbing gentle circles against one and she raised her brows to acknowledge his presence, but it was several long seconds before she opened them again. Hazy and satisfied, she smiled, one he hadn’t seen her wear before, a softer curve to her lips than her usual troublesome smirks or conceited grins. Kagura reached out to his face, lightly tracing the marks on his cheeks, still a little boneless.

His wound healed, he took her by the bicep and hauled her up, she muttered a complaint but her limp body went willingly, leaning into him when he pulled her against his chest and sunk back into the water. Kagura loosely draped her arms around his neck and buried her face against his shoulder, lightly mouthing at his skin as he sat back with her slumped against his chest, her legs around his hips and her heat on his thigh. Sesshoumaru trailed his hands over her skin, one loosely gripped her backside, while the other found traction on the rough skin between her shoulder blades.

Kagura flinched at the touch, but he merely tightened his grip and pressed his nose to her temple until she settled. He inhaled, reveling in the scent of her, her satisfaction, and finally letting the fatigue of the fight, of healing, catch up with him. Her weight on him, accompanied by the steam and the heat, the sound of her breathing and the rumble of the falls was soothing enough that he felt his eyes drifting closed, the fight and the energy exhausted in healing his wound taking its toll… 

Suddenly, Kagura pulled away, her eyes still a little clouded, she reached up and flicked his nose with a watery smile. “So.”

“What?”

“...You never answered my question.”

He growled and pulled her to his lips, swallowing her laughter as she kissed him back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to lovenlu-arts for the amazing artwork!! For anyone who doesn't know her please go check her out on lovenlu-arts.tumblr.com ! She is my angel in these trying times and her sesskagu art is to die for
> 
> Anyway i'm probably off to disappear for a month again, byyyyeee


	18. Rime

She could still taste herself on his lips.

Of all the things she’d been subjected to tonight, she supposed that little fact might leave her the most satisfied. The image of the great and powerful daiyoukai Sesshoumaru kneeling between her thighs, his pupils blown wide and lids drooping low… She’d sought out that power once, tried to have him do her bidding, and while it may have been several years late and he  _ may _ have required a little coaching, she couldn’t say that she minded the way he’d finally come around. 

Sesshoumaru could be stubborn as all hell, but she’d begun to notice the pattern; if she pressed hard enough, prodded a few times, he’d eventually give in. And now that he’d conceded whatever bullheaded jealous logic had kept him away, he wouldn’t stop touching her. Even as she tried to tie her belt around her waist his hand was there, tugging on the knot or simply trying to dissuade her by being overbearing, using his height and heat to distract her, to press her up against the wall again, trailing his nose along the line of her jaw. Sure, his hands had been around her throat not that long ago, he’d destroyed her jewelry and left her ear stinging, but she had much less care for her pride than the high of victory and the knowledge that she’d―well, quite  _ literally― _ gotten him right where she wanted him. 

Besides, the clouded look of his eyes was almost enough for her to forgive it. It was almost pitiful, and maybe the injury and blood loss had affected more than just his  _ performance _ , going off the color of his face, his heavy breaths, he was still a little weak. She was hardly sympathetic. He’d humiliated her soundly enough that she could reap the benefits just a little longer, even if that meant that getting dressed was more a chore than it needed to be.

“I never took you for the doting lover type,” she drawled, pulling away to fix her robes.

His breath caught and he stiffened, his hand hovered over the lapel near her navel for the briefest second before his claws dug into the fabric and pulled her soundly against his chest. He dipped his head, pressed his cheek to her temple so that his lips ghosted against the shell of her ear. She had to hold herself still to keep from shying away at the tickling sensation.

“Isn’t this what you wanted when you came here to taunt me?” His breath was hot against her skin. “You hardly minded earlier.”

She hummed and placed a hand on his chest, the only evidence of his injury the angry red splotch across his flesh. “And I don’t mind now either, I’m just…”

Sesshoumaru pulled back to look her in the eye, his pupils still dilated, and though it wasn’t her first time seeing it, she still had to bite back a laugh. She’d known he could be gentle, in his own way―the girl was proof enough of that―but the ever so stoic Sesshoumaru looking at her with puppy dog eyes… well, it was almost enough to make her heart skip a beat.

Not that she would ever tell him. She had a feeling she knew how  _ that  _ comment would go over. Insults were one thing, but the implication of it… no, she’d tuck that away somewhere, to mull over after she was long gone from him and this place. For now, she would just enjoy  _ this _ . 

“So sensitive,” she tsked and trailed her finger along the line of his collarbone, she felt the muscles move beneath her palm, the subtle shift of his weight, the pull of air deep into his lungs. There was still the scent of blood hanging around him, barely hidden by the mineral smell of the waters, the droplets still beading on his skin, but just below it, the scent of his skin, musky and just a little wild… She could feel the press of him against her hip― _ almost,  _ but _ ― _ not quite potent enough to chance his humiliation or her disappointment again. She pushed him back. “Shouldn’t you be making an appearance? Letting everyone know you ain’t dead?”

He made a noise similar to a snort. “Kinjirou is incapable.”

“Of what? Killing you or are you projecting?” His eyes hardened but she laughed him off. “Don’t worry, I plan to find out just how capable you are…  _ later,  _ when you’re not looking so bad―”

“ _ Kagura.” _

“Don’t look so upset.” She rolled her eyes and turned away from him, despite the barely there pout on his lips. “You’re the one who said later didn’t you? I ain’t plannin’ to let you forget it.” She had him right where she wanted him, but as much as she’d enjoyed the last hour and despite the necessary adjustments he’d needed, the―was it three?― _ time _ had been spent well. But… “I’m sick of being stuck down here, my fingers are pruned from just the air, and I’d rather there ain’t mold growing on my clothes when I go to put them on.”

She could feel the clammy, spongy texture of her hands and her robes were heavy on her shoulders. He must have noticed, too, with how he pulled at them only for the fabric to stick to her skin. He blinked at her, as if thinking about it, and she wondered if the blood loss had affected his brain more than she’d thought, but then he nodded once and finally stepped back, turning away and letting her fix her clothes and tie up her hair. She took the opportunity to discretely snatch up the glass shard when his back was to her, slipping it over her neck and under her collar as Sesshoumaru went for his own clothes, still bloodied and soaked through, but he slipped them on regardless, tied them loosely before reaching for his sodden pants. The fabric squelched as he pulled it up his legs, a scowl on his face, and Kagura couldn’t help but laugh. Nothing more than a wet dog, despite the airs he put on.

“Don’t forget, you owe me new earrings,” she said, wiggling her finger at her bare lobe. Her head felt light, and while she wouldn’t mourn the jewelry she’d certainly grown accustomed to the weight. Sesshoumaru hummed something that sounded like an agreement as he tied the strings around his waist and Kagura made no pretense at hiding her stare, she’d earned the right to watch, and as odd as the scene was, he hardly paid her any mind, going about his business as if she wasn’t there at all. It wasn’t until he was fully clothed and heading for his sword that he stopped and finally turned to look at her again.

“Later.” He said it sternly, as if she needed reminding. “My quarters are―” 

“Oh, don’t worry, I know how to find you.” She grinned. She wouldn’t argue with him about the place or the time, she didn’t need him instructing her like a child. Her clothes fixed, she stepped up to him, reaching for the sword before he could. A little presumptuous, she realized, just as her hand closed around the sheathe, but she planned to continue pushing her luck until he told her to stop. Sesshoumaru didn’t seem phased as she handed it to him, merely quirked a brow and took it from her without a word. 

“Your… friend will have taken those children by now,” he said, watching her carefully. Because he wasn’t sure of their relationship or because he wasn’t sure if she considered Achara a friend? She wouldn’t bother to ask. “I’ll ensure Jaken gives you the key to allow them to return.”

Kagura nodded. As soft hearted as they were, if Achara was left out in the cold she wouldn’t hear the end of it. “What are you going to do about the boy?”

He quirked a brow and she clarified her meaning. “Shippou will know better than to speak of this, he’ll be returning to the village with Jaken and Ah-Un the day after the festival.”

Insurance, she supposed. She had avoided talking about the girl, but it was obvious his cousin had put fear into him, with the way his breathing went shallow and his eyes narrowed at the first mention of it. Probably for the best either way, the fox had more than likely seen his fair share of brutality in one night, his tiny heart too softened by the morality of humans.

She was tempted to ask about his plans, but, as they made their way through the tunnels, she decided she preferred not to put an end date on something that hadn’t truly begun.

* * *

They parted ways before they reentered the palace. 

In the blurred shadows of torchlight, the stink of blood still wafting through the caves. There were no promises, no stolen touches, Kagura offered a haughty smirk and well wishes to match, while Sesshoumaru merely nodded, anticipation more than enough to compensate for a lack of intimacy.

And that was fine for Kagura, and would have been, if she’d been clear headed enough to cloak herself, and if the first person she ran into when she stepped into the light wasn’t his damn mother.

“ _ Well _ .” The old bitch offered a sniff and a long once over. “I suppose bloodlust can cloud one’s judgement.”

And while Kagura was in quite the good mood, she still took a great deal of satisfaction in using that exact moment to gather a gust strong enough to whip the last bits of water from her robes and send them splashing straight into her face, an indignant snarl echoing off the walls as Kagura hid herself behind the wind, spread her scent through the halls and ran off chuckling in search of the imp.

* * *

“I could have frozen to death!”

“Oh, shut up, you’re fine,” Kagura hissed, dragging Achara by the sleeve through the debris laden courtyard. If she’d held any sort of remorse for the mess after her little spat with the crows it was certainly gone now. 

Great pools of blood, glittering in the starlight, splattered the mud and slush, a pillar of the great hall nearly snapped in half and threatening to bring the roof down with it, roof tiles and paper doors smashed and littering the yard. The wall, as useless as it was, was almost nothing but rubble on one side, a line of dust and rock in the snow.

Achara offered a few more half hearted grumbles as they entered a more stable part of the castle, going abruptly silent when the two of them came across a stricken Ginhime. Her eyes just a little wild and red, she almost looked shocked to see the two of them; and while Kagura might have ordinarily preened under the dog’s subtle distress, she was in too good a mood to relish in it properly. 

Ginhime sidestepped them as the two of them passed, no comment or sneer at Kagura’s state of disarray, she didn’t even offer a disdainful sniff like the old bitch had, which would have made Kagura wonder at her brother’s fate if she cared at all. Instead they left her and continued on to their rooms, slipping down the narrow halls and trying not to attract anymore attention.

She slid the door open as soundlessly as she could, under the assumption that Momiji and the others would be too caught up in the chaos, but― 

“Well, look who finally decided to come back,” Hotaru crooned, wiggling his brows at her. He and Momiji were seated in the middle of the floor, Younousuke and Okiyo leaned against the wall in one corner, playing a dice game, while Tekari huddled in the corner opposite, napping or simply ignoring the rest of them by keeping her eyes closed. Kagura took one step over the threshold, before Urue dropped from the rafters and barred her entrance with a screech.

“Where have you been?!”

What a stupid question, and Kagura said as much as she shouldered past her familiar into the room, slamming the door shut behind her. She was in a good mood, but that didn’t mean she would tolerate a scolding. 

“What happened?” They’d left before she could see the outcome of the fight, and she’d been a little too preoccupied to push Sesshoumaru into talking about it, but Momiji was quick to open her mouth and start gushing, from the beginning, as if Kagura hadn’t been in attendance for the whole thing, embellishing wherever she thought the tale got a little dull. From her corner, Okiyo rolled her dice with a little more force than necessary, probably already having heard several iterations of the story before the one Momiji had settled on telling.

Kagura hardly listened to the first half, instead going to her pile of clothes to try and find something suitable to replace the stiff robes she wore. Urue dropped from the ceiling, her massive wingspan offering some modicum of privacy as Kagura let the fabric hit the floor with a hollow thump.

“...and thats when he knocked him flat on his back!” Momiji was saying. “I heard so many rumors about the dog general’s temper, and his son’s being even worse, but you know, I think he meant to show some mercy, he would have been happy enough just to get Kinjirou to submit, but the brat couldn’t just leave it at that, he went straight for the jugular. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he meant to actually kill him...”

At least that explained Sesshoumaru’s wounds, she’d have to mock him for that later.

“...But that’s when all hell broke loose, even with Kinjirou’s teeth in him that Sesshoumaru isn’t one to take things lightly. He ripped himself away and I think he meant to snap his neck, with the way he fit Kinjirou’s throat in his jaws and threw him like a rag doll… that’s what did most of the damage, you know, Sesshoumaru tossing him around like that. I honestly have no idea what that Kinjirou was thinking, he may be large by their standards but that Sesshoumaru is a real monster―”

“You don’t have to tell  _ her  _ that.” 

She’d just finished tying off her belt, but she didn’t need to look at him to know that Hotaru was poking at her discarded robes, his nose scrunched but a haughty and knowing smirk pulling at his cheeks. 

“Oh?”

Hotaru gave another disdainful sniff and Momiji’s soft footsteps slid across the floor, but before she could lay a hand on Urue’s wings Kagura had already stepped around, head cocked to the side and a purse to her lips, her arms crossed and waiting for whatever conclusions they would jump to. 

“Care to tell us why you smell like wet dog?” 

Unbidden, a smirk worked its way onto her lips, expectant and haughty, and Momiji, piecing together the clues, still a little slow on the uptake, her face morphing from curiosity to confusion to a slow shock and then finally laughter.

“Oh,  _ do tell _ ―”

“You know me better than that,” Kagura mocked, stepping past her to find a comb somewhere in all the mess. Younousuke and Okiyo had stopped their game to watch, Achara had warmed up beside Tekari who was trying, unsuccessfully, to slit one eye open as discretely as she could. And Kagura didn’t need to turn back to Urue to see the distress that was sure to be coloring her furry face. 

Momiji tsked while Hotaru began to laugh. “I guess all that bloodshed really does it for him, huh?”

“Oh,  _ shut up,”  _ Kagura hissed, rolling her eyes. Everyone went for the same conclusions… 

The two of them erupted into knowing chuckles while Kagura dragged a comb through her tangles, flinching whenever she snagged a particularly thick knot and when Momiji tried to make a sly insinuation.

“I ain’t telling you anything,” she hummed, delighting in Hotaru’s groans of exasperation and Momiji’s scoff and anxious fidgeting, always needing to be at the epicenter of gossip. Kagura would let her stew in it just a little longer, maybe a day, maybe more, until after she figured out exactly where she stood for herself. As much as she hated letting his mother’s words get into her head, he had been suffering from significant enough blood loss, and she’d rather go slowly than have to bite her tongue later.

“Kagura-sama?” 

Kagura perked up at Urue’s voice. There was a hint of trepidation in her tone, and Kagura knew better than to leave her be. The bat generally kept opinions to herself, but she recognized the uncertain timber of her voice, something that would have Urue stewing for weeks if she didn’t get it over with now. With a roll of her eyes and a few final drags of the comb through her hair she got to her feet and tied her hair into a looser knot than usual. She gestured for the bat to follow and went to open the sliding door out into the hall.

In the narrow hallway, Urue struggled to keep a steady pace and after a few futile flaps of her wings settled for perching on Kagura’s shoulder. Silent, but Kagura could feel the tension in her grip, tiny claws digging into her robe as Urue clung to her back, her head propped near the hollow of her neck. They rounded a corner and Kagura blinked, the sun had begun to rise, the stars long gone and the sky a pale shade of yellow; the destruction in the courtyard even worse in the harsh light of dawn, the half frozen pools of blood a sickly brown amongst the slush. Kagura stopped along the railing and Urue crawled off her back, setting herself down so she was almost in Kagura’s line of sight, but still far enough below to be considered deferential.

Not that Kagura cared for it, but Urue was stuck in certain things. 

“Kagura-sama, about what happened tonight…”

She held her tongue, but let her gaze wander out to the horizon. 

“...You cannot stay here. I expressed my reservations to you when you made the decision to come, but as things are I believe this isn’t in your best interest―”

“Thanks. Your concerns have been noted and ignored.” 

Urue made a face that Kagura almost considered cute, her snout wrinkled and her brows furrowed, just a peak of a fang. Unfortunately, that face nearly always preceded a lecture.

“Kagura-sama, the murder of the emperor’s children will not go unpunished. I’m sure Tsukiyomi’s eye has already turned, and while he is loathe to get involved with earthly affairs there are others who would be all too delighted to wage war on a clan as prolific as the dogs. Your brother has already gone to great lengths to ensure that you do not have to return yet.” Kagura rolled her eyes. “But if you’re found to be  _ here  _ of all places, neither your brother or Fuujin will be able to do anything. As it stands, Susano-o is already aware, and as unpredictable as he is…”

Yes. She remembered. And yet, she hardly cared. She’d already been tricked into doing the bidding of gods once, and had no intention of doing so again on nothing but a guess. 

“I’m not going anywhere, Urue,” she said, “I told you we’re staying until the end of the festival, I ain’t going to change my mind now.” Not when things had just started going her way. “Especially not over some damn kids.”

“Kagura-sama, I understand your feelings, but please reconsider. Prince Masahito and Princess Eiyu are descended from the first emperor―”

Kagura scoffed. “Oh, please, you can’t really believe―”

“―descended from the sun goddess, Amaterasu-sama,  _ your  _ sister, meaning―”

“ _ Shut up _ .” Kagura hissed and held up a hand, calling on her senses to ensure there weren’t any eavesdroppers. Urue, knowing that she’d already pushed her luck, thankfully stopped talking. “Don’t talk about it like I give a damn. Those kids mean nothing to me.”

“They may have meant nothing to you, but when the sun goddess sees what those dogs have done―”

“And what have they done, Urue?” She quirked a brow. “Those brats are fine, Achara dropped them both off safe and sound at some temple by the coast, I’m sure they’ll be on their way home soon enough.”

Urue shut her mouth, her eyes wide. “But―how...? You… I saw the girl…” 

“You underestimate the generosity of these dogs,” she said with a shrug. Urue only needed to know as much as Kagura was willing to tell her. Which as of now was nothing at all. “Those two are alive and well, so it shouldn’t be a problem, should it?”

The bat stared at her and then sighed. “I meant no disrespect, Kagura-sama―”

“ _ I know _ .” Three years, but she’d learned early enough on that Urue had her best interests at heart. That didn’t mean it wasn’t damned annoying. “But I don’t need you scolding me like a child, not  _ here.”  _ Not in this country, not in this castle. “I’m not her, but that doesn’t mean I can’t take care of myself.”

Urue hung her head with a nod, knowing that saying anything else would be futile when Kagura’s mind had already been made up. It was admirable, to say the least, that the bat still tried to keep her purity even after three years in Kagura’s company.

Kagura crossed her arms and turned away, watching the fog of her breath illuminated by the yellow light of the sky. Several servants had come out into the yard below them, beginning the long process of cleaning up the debris. They would need more than brooms and washcloths, but she supposed that this was simply the inevitable outcome of a quarter-centurial festival hosted by monsters.

“Is what Hotaru said true?”

Kagura blinked. “Hn?”

“About you and…” Urue couldn’t bring herself to say it. 

“Are you going to lecture me if it is?”

Urue shook her head. “I feel that it would be futile, but… are you sure it's wise?”

As annoying as she was, the familiar was the only one who knew the history, of him and his mother―brother, too―the only one Kagura could trust with the knowledge of what they’d been walking into coming here. A simple thing, but she hadn’t wanted Momiji of all people meddling more than she already had, or of anyone else getting involved. And maybe what Urue was implying was true, but…

“Does it matter?”

Urue made a face, one of defeat, and hung her head. Kagura almost had the urge to reach out and pat her head, but knew her familiar would only understand it as condescension and opted to leave her be. She leaned up against the railing, watching the workers below sort out the mess until her hands began to sting from the cold. Only then did she give Urue’s wing a flick, letting her know it was time to go back, and then tapped her own shoulder, letting the bat cling to her as they headed back to their room in silence. 

Until of course, she slid open the door to a giggling Hotaru and Momiji clutching something to her chest.

They both turned, almost comically, at her entrance, and while in the background Okiyo rolled her eyes and let out a loud groan, Hotaru merely tittered and twirled away, leaving her to face a mischievous looking Momiji.

“...What?”

Momiji covered her mouth and giggled. “ _ This  _ came for you while you were gone.”

She held out her hand, a bundle wrapped in white cloth cradled in her palm. She grinned wide as Kagura reached out and plucked it from her hand; Kagura turned away, unconcerned with Momiji and Hotaru peering over her shoulders as she unwrapped the package.

“Well―” A glint of warm amber, a sparkle of silver in the morning sunlight. “He does work quickly, doesn’t he?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooops, maybe i overestimated how long a month was, my bad y'all


	19. Blizzard

The day slid by quickly, with a third or fourth retelling of the night’s events by Momiji, a few dice games with Okiyo, some missed jabs by Hotaru, and her second hot bath of the day just before sunset. The bath would wash out the scent of him that clung to her skin, but she had already grown tired of those with a nose commenting on it by the time Hotaru had opened his mouth, so it was hardly a loss. She doubted that Sesshoumaru himself fared any better. While she’d sworn to herself not to meddle too much, she still found herself calling on the wind to find his location, speaking with his mother―who was sure to be giving him an earful in her own way―the imp, or his uncle. She could tease the words from the air if she wanted, but felt that that might be overstepping her bounds just a little. 

By the time the night came round, she was only a little surprised that he hadn’t sought her out or made his intentions clear. Then again, it seemed as if he’d been busy sorting out the mess he’d made, and she supposed that that took precedence. It smarted, but she couldn’t rightly blame him for it, and she knew the anticipation would make it all the more savory, and was assured of this when she walked into the slightly less opulent hall and was immediately met with golden eyes burning her where she stood.

She did not go to him, flanked by his mother and other esteemed dogs. While she would have enjoyed toying with him, she didn’t need his mother snarling down her neck even if she was sure to be scandalized by her presence. So Kagura took her place at the far end of the room instead, and only sent a whispered “ _ Good evening”  _ drifting on a breeze to his ears. It only made his gaze darken, eliciting a sharp little thrill in her belly, but Kagura waved her fan and stayed put, not even getting up to perform, content with her sole spectator seated across the room. It was enough, a little buzz beneath her skin, coupled with the strong drink, had her feeling warmer than she had in the weeks since the winter had set in.

Just because she felt giddy didn’t mean she wanted to look it, it took some deal of effort not to spend the night sending eyes his way, and though she was rewarded with a heated stare everytime she did, Kagura did her best to distract herself with the music and laughter of the crowd. Okiyo and Younousuke were hardly entertaining company, but their presence was somber enough that she could quietly stew in the anticipation on her own. Throwing Sesshoumaru a glance every so often, ignoring the menacing glare of his mother, Momiji’s coy smirks, and the solemn sulking of his cousins at a far corner of the room, Ginhime taking it stoically, while Kinjirou looked more like a petulant child, still sporting an angry gash across his throat.

If she hadn’t known any better, Kagura would think his sister had put the wound there herself, with how frustrated she looked sitting at the outskirts of the party. 

Kagura paid them little mind, watching the waning moon rise and fall in the sky and the faces of the crowd turn redder as the night wore on. The buzzing under her skin only grew stronger with each passing second and every sip of his drink, her gaze flickering to the center of the room with more urgency until she took one last look and was met with only an empty seat and his mother’s irritated glare. 

With a smirk thrown her way, Kagura excused herself and slunk from the room a little quicker than she intended, her nerves getting the better of her and quickening her feet as she followed after him.

It wasn’t hard to pick up the threads left behind by his departure, a straightforward and languid path that meandered up through the castle, tending towards the balconies and ledges, places where the icy breeze was the strongest. It did little to chill the warmth coursing through her veins, the wind at her back infected by her own giddy attitude, spurring her on.

It felt a bit silly, almost skipping through the halls, but Kagura had little care for decorum―or the pretense of her own pride to slow her ascent―letting the wind whisk her up until she reached a flight of steps that led out onto a landing gouged into the rock. 

Kagura stopped, almost missing the dour eyed shadow watching her.

She nearly barked out a laugh. Leaned up against a wall, he looked better than he had when they’d parted in the morning, but evidently the day had had a worse effect on his attitude than she’d thought. Kagura took the final step up, bringing a warm wind with her and sent it tousling through his hair.

“Did you not want me to follow you?” She flicked open her fan and used it to hide her grin, fanning herself and watching him expectantly.

His eyes narrowed and he pushed off the wall without a word. The grin tugging at her cheeks almost hurt, and she was glad for the fan, otherwise she feared that her giddy attitude might go straight to his ego, and she preferred him a little more humble.

She hardly expected him to start talking―whispering words of affection to ease her into his bed―he knew he had little need for it, not when she’d already come running at the first sign of his departure… but the silent treatment was a little disheartening, even as he stepped up to her, that same dispassionate look in his eye. He wasn’t that much taller, the top of her head only came to his nose, but she got the distinct impression that getting so close was more some innate ploy to intimidate than a desire to actually get close to her.

Well, until she felt the pressure of his hand pushing the fan away from her face. She let him, closed the fan with a soft snap and let it fall to her hip.

Kagura pulled her lips between her teeth, trying to hide her stupid smile, but Sesshoumaru hardly looked at her face, instead his gaze slid left, and his fingers brushed against her collar― 

“Oh, these?” She reached up, fingering the jewels dangling from her lobe. A comfortable weight, warm amber as large as her thumb nail polished into fine points, smoothed just enough not to cut, and wound in shimmering silver. “They were a gift from an anonymous suitor.” She cocked her head and grinned, letting the jewel swing, slapping against his fingers and her throat. His gaze flicked up to hers. “You don’t like them?”

Sesshoumaru rolled his eyes and turned away, but it was only three steps before he stopped under the eaves and opened a door she hadn’t noticed.

“Well  _ I  _ think they’re quite nice,” she chuckled, fingering one of the shards and following after him. “Though I am curious what corpse or enemy’s estate they were pilfered from.”

He scoffed. “You think so lowly of your supposed suitor?”

“Oh, not at all,” she cooed. Another flight of steps, this one hidden in darkness, Kagura quickened her step so that she was close enough to reach out and twirl a finger through the fur on his pelt. She would have sworn she felt him flinch. 

He still said nothing else, leading her up to the final floor, rooms for the most esteemed members of the family, whoever could claw their way to the top. But with each step, and each second he went silently, that little thrill of anticipation began to waver, especially when he opened the door to a conspicuously empty room.

Only a hibachi pushed up against the wall, the smoldering coals almost burnt completely down to ash. The doors to the veranda were open, the winter stricken landscape of the valley almost blinding, all stars and snow covered mountains; the cold air kissed her skin, and that might have been the only indication he’d anticipated a caller such as her at all, that he’d accounted for her desire for the open air. It wasn’t as if she’d expected to be wooed―the earrings  _ were _ a nice touch―Sesshoumaru had proved that seduction was hardly his forte, but the barren floor had the butterflies in her belly withering away to nothing. 

He stopped just past the threshold, and Kagura was more than a little disappointed by his lack of enthusiasm, so still in the center of the room. It was almost offensive, the way he kept his back so severely straight, not even turning back to look at her as she closed the door with a little more force than necessary. She usually enjoyed teasing him, but she was starting to think…

“If you didn’t want me to come you should have just said so.”

At that he did flinch. She felt the sharp intake of breath, saw the way the straightness of his spine wavered just a little, and then he did turn, shadowed by the stars and moonlight behind him but she didn’t miss the way his eyes had changed―darkened. 

She stood her ground, refused to let him force her back, as he took those final steps towards her, his eyes lit by a different type of fire as he reached a hand up to her jaw, cupping her cheek and pulling them together. He didn’t kiss her, instead he pressed his nose to the top of her head, his other hand coming to her waist, fingers tangling in the fabric of her belt. Shock held her frozen for the shortest second before her hands came up, tugging at the lapels of his kosode, pressing herself against his chest, relishing in the warmth of him, the feel of his hand lightly cupping her jaw, she’d been craving it, that same sort of fire that had left her skin tingling like last night, a ghost of a touch, but the Sesshoumaru that held her now was just…

“You thought I would change my mind?”

_...Different.  _ Where the night before he’d been injured, a little unsure and feral, his touch going from too hard to too soft within the same breath―now he was purposeful: he did not rip her from her clothes, everything that fell to the floor only suffered the prick of his claws but went otherwise intact. Where he’d been frantic, he was now careful, taking the time to explore, nostrils flared, pupils still blown just as wide as they’d been before… 

Her belt fell, and then her two outer robes, leaving her only in the thin inner shift that only came to her thighs. He didn’t bother removing that one, content to leave it hanging open wide. His gaze briefly fell on the glass shard hanging between her breasts, only a passing curiosity as his attention moved elsewhere, focused on pushing the cloth to her sides. Claws tickled her skin, trailing along the line of one of her ribs and she couldn’t help but shiver, involuntary, but severe enough for him to take notice, to change tactics and move to grip her waist and pull her more soundly against him. There was that scent again―in the hollow of his collarbone, something animal, wild, acidic and dangerous―that cloyingly sweet smell of poison… 

She’d gotten quite the eyeful earlier, but it was different being pressed up against him in the confines of his room, able to touch, to trail her lips along his skin, leaving bloodied tracks―she pushed away the lapels of his robe and feel the muscles there, smoothing her palms along his flesh until she came to a point she could pinch― 

Something like a snarl ripped its way from his throat and suddenly her back collided with a wall, his lips at her throat and fangs nipping in reprimand as one hand worked its way between her thighs, the other tangling itself in the hair at the base of her skull, wrenching her head back to face him when he pulled away, all glowering golden eyes looking down on her.

“...Not your thing?” she teased, a wry smile on her lips as she circled his nipple once more with her thumb and then moving her hand down his belly. His eyes narrowed before she’d reached her destination, a finger slid between her lower lips, slick with heat, and with just enough pressure to cause her breath to stutter, but―she laughed and wrapped her hand around his length. “You’ll have to do a bit better than that.” 

He didn’t give her the chance to properly feel him, the hand in her hair tightened and the other snaked around to grip her behind, bodily lifting her until her thighs snapped around his hips and he lowered them both to the floor with her spread across his lap. His grip on her hair loosened her bun, leaving loose curls to fall around her face and neck, a nuisance that may have been his intention from the start, seeing as how he capitalized on it by pressing his nose to the space behind her ear and winding his fingers in deeper.

He hadn’t bothered to procure the proper accommodations, there were no soft pillows or luscious futons laid out for her, but Kagura supposed that hardly mattered when his fur snaked around behind her, softer than any fleece he could have thrown across the tatami. He pushed her back, the fur cushioning her as he came to loom over her, one of her legs still hooked over his thigh and him pressing against her, potent enough even through the fabric of his pants― 

A soft sound, something like a sigh left her throat, and it only made his grip on her waist tighten.

Kagura laughed as another shiver shook her. It should have been uncomfortable, wrapped around him with his weight and heat looming over her in the dark, the fur at her back arching her spine so that she was pressed against him oh so nicely. It felt like a trap, her instincts recognized the position, submission before a predator―but when his hand slipped between her legs she hardly cared. Her own hand joined his, gently, careful of his claws, pressing his fingers in a way that was more comfortable, encouraging, even as her free hand went for the thin tie at his hips, loosening it until his pants sagged and she could reach for him―tug and squeeze and pull him closer. She’d waited long enough, stewed in her anticipation, she didn’t need much soothing…

Kagura pulled him down, spearing a hand through his hair, cradling the back of his skull, pulling him so that he was pressed against her heat, and Sesshoumaru, cold and dispassionate, buried his nose into the crook of her jaw as he sank into her.

A sweet ache, like the prick of his claws, she welcomed him into her, squeezed her thighs tighter around him. Both of them holding their breath, savoring the feel of each other, his warmth keeping out the cold, his breath fanning her throat, one hand in her hair and the other on her hip, the throb of him inside her… she wasn’t sure if it was for her benefit when he pulled out slow―his hips faltered, sinking back into her with the same tentative motion, the stretch of him tender in its own way, a certain sort of softness she hadn’t known him to be capable of, but where it was for her benefit or his own she wasn’t quite sure. She just needed― 

“ _ Harder.” _

Because him being tender was a different sort of ache, one she didn’t want to have to consider, especially when Sesshoumaru rose up, pulled back just a little too much, silver hair a shimmering curtain blotting out the starlight,breathing heavy; he met her eyes, pupils still dilated and looking down on her like…

  
  


He thrust deep, and Kagura screamed.

_ Like that.  _ Her hands scrabbled for purchase on him, his hair, the curve of his spine, the dimple of his hips, the forearm bracketed near her head and digging into his fur, she focused on the feel of him, how hard he was, the move of muscle beneath skin, the heat and scent of him, how his barely contained youki overwhelmed her. Were the marks along his cheeks a little jagged? Maybe, but she couldn’t focus when the feeling of him inside of her broke any coherent thought. She pressed on his hip, changing the angle of his thrusts, the rhythm, the dance of give and take―her legs shook and twitched when he shifted, his hips flush against her, his thrusts shallower, keeping the connection against her center, the roll of his hips still hard and deep. A hand found her breast, tweaking a pebbled nipple and sending shockwaves through her nerves― 

The sob that wracked her frame was wholly different now, and she mumbled his name, over and over, as that knot finally unwound, warmth spreading through her belly as she came. Her legs trembled around his hips as she tightened around him, spasming and clenching against the continued motion until he buried his nose in the hollow of her throat, biting down on her collarbone as he gave one last hard and heavy thrust, rooting himself deep inside her with a sharp inhale before he finally stilled, his nose buried against her neck and her name spoken so softly she might have thought she imagined it if she hadn’t felt the breath against her skin.

They both took several steadying breaths, Kagura trying to get her pulse under control while his breath fanned against her skin. He was still inside of her, and she could feel him still throbbing, though it weakened with every pulse. She didn’t want him to pull away, content with him there between her legs, but knew that clinging to him would just make matters worse.

He shifted, withdrew, pulled himself back onto his knees so he could kneel before her. His eyes were half lidded, his pupils still blown wide, but she didn’t have it in her to comment on it. Her tongue was heavy in her mouth, just like the rest of her, rested yet restless; wanting to spring up and run, fly, but yet feeling as if she was glued to the floor, the muscles of her legs tingling with satisfaction. 

So she watched him, watching her, his kosode open and giving her a view of his abdomen, and below, his length half hard and glistening with the evidence of their coupling. Kagura swallowed thickly and averted her eyes back to his when he moved again, throwing his hair back over his shoulder before he turned away from her to stand. He pulled his pants fully off in the process and dropped his kosode to the floor, leaving him only in his hadagi which reached mid thigh. Kagura forced herself to sit up, pulling her own robes closed. 

_ And now?  _

There was a tenderness between her thighs, sticky, the scent of sex heavy in the air; Sesshoumaru seemed unphased as he opened a drawer along the wall, she didn’t see what he pulled out, hidden by the expanse of his back, only that after he reached for the tea kettle on the hibachi. It sloshed, heavy with water, and she heard the droplets hit the floor with a haphazard drumming.

She was nearly on her knees when he held his hand out to her and handed her the wet cloth without looking.

“Thanks.” Her voice cracked, but she refused to clear her throat. 

A moment later, as she gently wiped at her tender skin, the sound of a match being lit caught her attention. Sesshoumaru kneeling before the hibachi was an odd sight, but the way the warm glow of the coals sent glimmering sparks through his hair and haloed him against the shadows had her breath catching. She froze, mesmerized by the dance of light against the silver strands. Warmth flooded the room as the stove caught, jumping to life with cracks and pops. She nearly jumped when he finally spoke.

“Kagura.”

“Hn?”

“Are you recovered?” 

She held onto the lapels of her robes, tightly holding them closed. She swallowed.

“I am.”

Sesshoumaru turned, the light cutting across his eyes and setting them ablaze with golden fire. He approached, and the sight of the daiyoukai Sesshoumaru, mostly naked and crawling towards her on hands and knees was one she wouldn’t forget easily, something both predatory and pitiful in the action; but she said nothing, even as he reached forward and pulled her hair free from its binding, dragging his palm just below her ear to cup her cheek. Her hair cascaded down around her shoulders as a hand touched her thigh and his lips came within inches of her own.

“I would like to do that again.”

And he pulled her back down with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two chapters in one week to make up for 2 months


	20. Hail

He moved, slow and purposeful, and was met with a sigh.

It tickled his ears, fanned the warmth pumping sluggishly through his veins, a sort of calm he hadn’t felt in a long time… one that wouldn’t be dampened by the air working its way under his robe and kissing a chill up his spine. He’d begun to find that freezing caress almost comforting, even as it numbed his skin, lifted the hairs on the back of his neck and his fur… almost sweet, the way it stung his nose when he inhaled, trailed an icy line down his throat and into his lungs. It burned, but not nearly as much as the woman that surrounded him.

Beneath him, Kagura gasped―a soft little sound that he’d grown to crave―followed by another sigh. Her eyes fluttered, unfocused, her lips parted as she breathed in time with his slow thrusts. The cold hardly bothered her, engulfed in his fur as she was, her hips propped up to ease his access―he felt the pull when she inhaled, the wind moving, in and out, in time with them as he moved within her.

Kagura sighed, and the fingers loosely wound in the furs above her head tightened their grip, her hair fanned out in a mess beneath her head, her arms stretched when she craned her head back, baring her throat, along with her next inhale. It gave him a delightful view, one long line from the crook of her jaw to the place where they joined, that wet heat between her legs, open to him with her knees hooked over his forearms. The strength had gone from her legs hours ago, she’d given up on trying to hold them steady, but Sesshoumaru was more than willing to compensate, to press her back as he pressed in…

His hips stuttered and a gasp caught, he paused, watched the bob of her throat as she swallowed it down―her pulse fluttered, she blinked, her eyes rolled as she tried to focus on him, a furrow formed in her brow as their eyes met―she breathed out slow, gave him a look that he had begun to understand too well.

Don’t stop.

He snapped his hips, thrust deep, and that delightful little gasp met his ears again.

The wind was ice at his back, but Kagura was warm and welcoming, far more than he would have ever thought her to be. Beneath him, around him, letting him in so easily, as if she was not a very force of nature, a storm trapped in flesh―

She sighed, and he breathed with her. Kept a steady rhythm, despite the heavy feeling in his limbs, a sweet sort of fatigue that weighed him down and slowed his thrusts. As loathe as he was to admit it, even he could tire, though it was a satisfied sort of numb, even as the pleasure coiled in his belly… 

He shifted, brought a hand between them, a thumb at her core―her head rolled, half lidded eyes tried to focus on him again as her breath stuttered, she pulled her lips between her teeth, mouth swollen and stained with the remnants of her lipstick. She stretched her arms higher, swallowed, and this time he was met with a soft moan. 

She twitched, squeezed around him, and he deepened his thrust, as far as her body would allow―his thumb stroked in a slow rhythm, his hand pressed down on her belly, hard enough that he could feel himself inside her. 

Kagura bit her lip and raised her hips and when she inhaled he was sure the room grew hotter―that icy chill from the open doors replaced by something mistier, like the first kiss of spring―and then her hand joined his own, increasing the pressure of his thumb and speeding his circling, she bit her lip―and then she was spasming, arching her back as her legs shook, her chest heaving and her rapid heartbeat almost deafening―Sesshoumaru thrust hard, deeply, and in fast succession, fucked her through her spasms until she was boneless, limp beneath him… he felt the thread in his belly unravel, his own pulse quickened, so much so that he thought his ribs might crack with the sudden warmth that flooded him― 

He inhaled, steadied himself, still deep within her. Kagura was quiet, one arm slung over her eyes as her chest rose and fell with each breath. He breathed and when he pulled away from her she let out a sound something like a whine, high pitched and low in her throat as she rolled to her side, away from him but deeper into his fur.

He could no longer tell where his scent ended and hers began, so embedded was it in his synapses, in his fur and the grooves of the tatami floor, something fresh and so at odds with the ice that dragged its way down his throat. He inhaled, let it linger on his tongue… 

Her shoulders rose and fell with each deep breath she took, the lapel of her collar fell away from her shoulder when she shifted, and exhausted as she was she seemed in no hurry to replace it. While he could persevere in the face of the winter’s cold, he much preferred the warmth of the hibachi, but Kagura… the wind flowed through her, around her, and while he knew she felt the chill, it hardly seemed to bother her. He’d tried closing the doors as the morning had worn on, but she’d only open them again when he turned his back.

Uncomfortable stuffed up in a room, it still shocked him that she allowed him above her.

Her collar slid further down, revealing the briefest glimpse of marred skin and stealing his gaze. 

Four years ago, he hadn’t recognized it for what it was, but now, covered in her scent and the remnants of their coupling, he knew exactly what the spider shaped burn that scarred her spine meant.

Maybe once, when she’d been a nameless youkai who’d sought to make use of him the same as her creator, such a thing would have curled his lip―there was a phantom ache, a sharp pinch in his belly, the ghost of a smile―but the woman beside him now, with a name he’d breathed into her hair enough times for it to be embarrassing… she’d wormed her way into his bed, and in spite of her past and the scars that proved it, he had little intention of letting her leave just yet.

He lifted his hand, lightly tracing the line of her collar. He hadn’t touched her skin, and whether she’d felt his intention or had finally woken from her post-coital haze he wasn’t quite sure.

“Again…?” She turned only a little, so that he could see the flutter of her lashes when she rolled a crimson eye in his direction, still a little unfocused. He shook his head. Kagura let out a relieved sigh and turned back away from him, but― 

She tossed her hand back, let it fall across his chest as she gave him several small pats before her hand settled, over his heart.

Sesshoumaru breathed, and left it there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short chapter because i thought y’all deserved some simp sesshoumaru in these trying times


	21. Moon Dogs

Kagura squinted against the low hanging sun as she pulled a comb quickly through the knots in her hair. The sky was still an eye-burning shade of blue, nearly blinding her, reflecting off the snow laden mountain tops and the distant sea. 

“What happens when the sun sets?”

She knew they were already pushing their time but that was more his fault than anything. Below, the dogs were already gathering in the courtyard, nipping at each other's heels, agitated from the last three nights fasting in preparation for the hunt or the run or whatever the hell they liked to call it. She’d heard different terms, depending on who she asked.

“We’ll leave for the mountaintop.”

“Like a parade?”

Sesshoumaru scoffed, and Kagura had to keep from giggling when she heard the soft rustle of fabric, the slide of silk against skin. She kept her gaze on the spectacle down below. Servants, along with the castle’s ghosts, were dragging the remnants of his fight with his cousin and what looked like wheat grass into large piles along the outskirts of the yard. They shaped the dry grass into tall mounds. She could smell the dust from where she stood, and was sure that heady earth scent was even stronger for the man behind her.

“Kagura.”

She ignored him, pretended like she hadn’t heard, and continued combing her hair. She flinched when a quick stroke snagged her earring. 

He hummed something, there was the sharp  _ zip  _ of a tie being tightened, most likely the short strings of his hadagi around his waist, and then a pause. Silence. She felt his gaze prickling her spine, a giddy sort of tingle running along her skin. She kept the comb sliding through her hair, her strokes smooth and even, careful to avoid the dangle of her earring. 

Footsteps slid across the tatami, a gentle shuffle, and then her back burned in earnest. Kagura felt the heat of Sesshomaru’s chest as he stood behind her. She could feel the warm air in his lungs as he inhaled, then the gentle pressure of his hands at her waist, moving until one of his palms slipped beneath the lapels of the robe she wore to splay across her lower belly, while the other― 

“ _ Wait―”  _

But he’d already gone for the loose knot of the belt resting at her hip. Kagura hissed as it fell, and he quickly went for the collar of the furisode, yanking it down her arms with little finesse. She tried to turn, but the hand on her belly kept her still. She let out a groan, her arms snapped up to shield herself against the sudden chill on her bare skin, and she fidgeted at the sensation of sleek fabric sliding against the uneven texture between her shoulder blades. He held her steady, not quite an embrace only holding her with the hand at her belly, but she welcomed the warmth at her back.

Until he gave a long and loud sniff at the fabric in his hand.

Kagura clicked her tongue and pushed off of him, knowing very well what he was thinking. 

“Oh, don’t act so haughty.”

She brushed past him, woefully eyeing the wrinkled furisode in his fist. She’d gone for it the moment she’d seen it hanging up against the wall; the sleeves were a bit longer than she was used to―she’d gotten caught with them beneath her more than once―but the design, that all too familiar bleached white and red accented emblem, was too similar to his typical attire for her to leave it hanging by the wall for long. 

Unfortunate, because it was sure to smell of sex for all the hours she’d worn it.

Not that it would make a difference, whether he wore the smell of it on him. Sesshoumaru may have had reason to be discreet about his affairs, but Kagura had no such predilection. His mother already knew, as did her companions, and it wasn’t as if he’d told her to keep it secret. In fact he hadn’t said anything at all, as if he hardly cared. So she’d decided that neither did she. 

Neither of them had put a name to their relationship. It was just routine, she would meet him near his rooms early in the morning, and there she’d stay til the sun set, when they’d rush through twilight, getting ready for the night’s festivities, and then go their separate ways with little more than a glance and a smirk.

Kagura hadn’t asked, and Sesshoumaru hadn’t brought it up, and that was that. 

Still, calling herself his mistress felt like an insult, and calling him her  _ lover  _ was laughable. Paramour was too intimate for something that had hardly existed for more than a week... but it wasn’t as if they were simply friends either. Regardless, Kagura supposed that their little arrangement had its perks.

She’d retaken her seat beside him, amongst his uncle―who hardly needed an explanation to put two and two together―and his mother, who’d already known and had at least started to temper some of her greater insults. Whether out of fear of drawing her son’s ire or that she preferred to keep things civil in mixed company. Or the least likely: that the old bitch had actually started to  _ like  _ her. 

As much as that would make her life easier, Kagura still wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

She certainly enjoyed the days spent up in his room, over him, under him, or just lazing beside the hibachi and wrapped up in his fur during his better moods. She didn’t need his mother thinking that she could influence Kagura by being nice or playing at friends. She wasn’t a daughter-in-law, and wasn’t interested in being treated like one, even  _ if _ she’d started getting used to his warmth and the sound of his heartbeat.

Sesshoumaru could be a cold son of a bitch, but he was hard headed in the way that he refused to do anything by half measure. And Kagura was thoroughly enjoying exploiting him for it.

There  _ were  _ things she had to correct him on―where to place his hands or where  _ not  _ to put his clawed fingers, that she didn’t mind being on her back but that holding her down―her arms or her throat, it didn’t matter―would get him a swift kick to the gut. He’d taken that one fairly well, too preoccupied with getting back to business. Then again, she hadn’t hit him  _ that  _ hard.

For his part, Sesshoumaru tended to keep quiet, which might have bothered her if she wasn’t so aware of his heavy breathing or the thunder of his pulse.

And there were things she’d noticed, even without him telling her. 

He liked his hands in her hair, to cradle the back of her head and twirl his fingers through the strands. And as much as she hated to do it, the knots she knew it would cause, she’d taken to wearing it down, whenever they were alone.

He didn’t like kissing. Which at first had hurt, a little, that wandering thought that he didn’t like kissing  _ her…  _ but then she’d realized his penchant for sticking his nose wherever it pleased him, felt the way he held the air in his lungs, and knew that the action held the same meaning. 

Besides, he’d found better uses for his tongue than just her mouth, and Kagura was more than happy with that.

And she’d known that he often used his presence to intimidate, towering over his opponents and using his youki to overpower them, but she’d thought he was standoffish in everything else. Except, it seemed, when they were alone.

He was hardly…  _ affectionate  _ after their coupling _ ,  _ but he didn’t shy away from her either. He was content to lay beside her, quietly, one long warm line, from shoulder to thigh, connecting them as they caught their breath. And where he did not embrace her, he still let her wrap herself in his fur, and that was enough for Kagura.

She knew better than to attempt anything that could be misconstrued as affection, but as distant as he liked to be, Sesshoumaru was certainly willing to play the role of a doting beau in other areas. The earrings had come first, then a comb, a set of rouge, and now…

A furisode. 

But not the one he’d just ripped from her. Both had been hanging in his room when she’d come in, and she’d capitalized on his before he’d said anything. She hadn’t wanted to talk about it, especially when his preferred style of gift giving was to simply throw something at her without a word or explanation. And she  _ liked _ it that way, but now, the robe that hung so prettily against the wall in his room felt very loud, especially with her standing naked in the cold.

Kagura reached out, fingering the fabric of the sleeve. Soft, a supple silk, shimmering in the low light of the sun, a deep black with threads so polished they glittered like the night sky. The sleeves and the bottom hem looks as if they’d been plastered with ice, a hazy sort of white, frozen leaves punctuated with chrysanthemums red as freshly spilt blood, the petals dipped in luminescent gold. 

“This doesn’t seem quite your style,” she said, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. “Are you trying something new?”

Sesshoumaru huffed again, but didn’t turn around, looking out over the castle as he adjusted his robes and tied them at his waist, his hair haloed in golden sunlight. She’d almost started to find it cute, his sulking silences, his generosity hidden behind an apathetic facade. His pride would never let him just come out and give her something so fine, but she knew he secretly preened under praise; she hardly thanked him, but she noticed the look on his face whenever she used his little presents. He’d dressed her before, too, the only difference now was that the gift was more than a little ostentatious.

“If you expect me to be grateful the least you could do is say  _ something.”  _ Kagura crossed her arms, still naked, and glared at his back with a pout. The silent treatment was fine when he was otherwise engaged, but she was still waiting for this…  _ thing  _ to loosen his lips when they had their clothes  _ on. _

His sigh wasn’t quite audible, but she felt the shift in the air and saw the heavy puff of fog dancing around his head before he spoke. 

“It’s an auspicious occasion, you should be dressed appropriately.”

“Oh?” A grin lit up her face. “And why’s that?”

There was a beat of silence. Neither had put a name to it, but… 

Sesshoumaru turned, and the look on his face was one of the “ _ don’t push it” _ variety. Oh well. Kagura shrugged it off, far from heart broken. An unnamed thing was better than nothing.

She turned and tugged the furisode from its stand. “You want me to wear it tonight then?”

He huffed something like an affirmative as he pulled his pants up his legs and tied them off.

“Well, then I’ll need some help gettin’ into it, won’t I?” She pulled it messily over her shoulders and stepped up to him, tugging on his sleeves to make him look at her. “Or out of it, whatever you prefer.”

He exhaled a puff of fog and looked down at her, as if thinking. He raised a hand, like he might twirl a finger through the loose curls falling around her shoulders. 

The shift in his weight was enough incentive, Kagura began to trail her hands up his sleeves, across his chest and down the tightly closed lapels of his furisode until she came to the tie at his waist. She gave it a tug and quirked a brow, looking up at him from beneath her lashes, and despite the layers of fabric she felt him twitch against her palm― 

He stepped back.

“I don’t have the time.”

Kagura let out a whine.

“In the morning.”

She stuck out her lip and crossed her arms, but she left him to finish dressing and turned away to do the same. Because if there was one thing she’d learned about this Sesshoumaru she’d let into her bed, it was that he always kept his promises.

* * *

His mother gave him one long disdainful sniff. 

Sesshoumaru ignored her. 

So it had been for the last week.

He had no intention of humoring her penchant for drama, of indulging her thinly veiled insinuations and insults leveled in Kagura’s direction, even if the woman herself was nowhere to be seen. 

So she knew of his physical relationship. It was to be expected. His mother was the type who needed to be aware of everything happening around her. He’d been too young the last time he’d attended the festival, but illicit affairs were far from uncommon. If her intention was to shame him then she was failing spectacularly, it was far more amusing for him to watch his mother flail and sniffle in Kagura’s direction while trying to make small talk than to be embarrassed about his sex life being a sticking point between them.

At the very least she’d stopped the blatant insults, she knew better than to push him too far. With his scent on her, anyone with a nose knew to leave Kagura to her own devices. A fact she’d most definitely noticed and capitalized on whenever she had the chance. Whether it be sneaking into the private baths or helping herself to the best drink they had to offer, the woman he’d bedded was nothing if not an opportunist.

Not that he had any intention of stopping her. Watching her slide haughty looks at his mother and the rest of his family, the airs she wore when she sat at the front of the room, that smug little quirk of her chin―it was better entertainment than anything else that had come parading through the gates. 

And of course, letting her do as she pleased had its own perks― 

Sesshoumaru inhaled. It wouldn’t do to let those thoughts cloud his mind, not now, not when the hazy smoke of the bonfires around them was already warming his blood and fogging his head. 

He could see it in his mother’s face, too, the marks on her cheeks a little jagged and her eyes a noticeable shade of pink. She tried to keep her posture straight, her proud demeanor, but her grip on her human form had already begun to slip. As arrogant as she was, she was still nothing more than a dog like the rest of them.

Her eyes flickered to him, the gold of her irises somehow colder in the light of the setting sun. 

“Don’t look at me like that.” She sniffed and brought her sleeve to her nose. 

“Yer ma’s always been a lightweight,” Gajou guffawed from behind him. His uncle fared much the same, but unlike his mother, his uncle was relishing in the sensation the smoke brought; claws and fangs a little longer, sclera almost completely red but his irises still a bright shade of yellow. If he was human his face might have even been flushed pink, instead the marks along his cheeks compensated by going jagged, almost reaching the corners of his mouth.

“Shut up, Gajou.” Her growl was a greater indication of her mental state than her face.

His uncle just snickered.

The dogs around them were getting antsy, fidgeting, snapping at each other’s heels, the smaller pups dizzy in the cloying smoke. That haze was almost sparkling in the warm sunlight and whatever snow they kicked up by their paws. The pups played, innocent, but the longer the afternoon wore on their playful yips and snaps slowly morphed into deeper snarls and curled lips. 

They wouldn’t be allowed on the hunt, too dangerous, even for them. As large and menacing as they looked, they were still nothing more than children. They wouldn’t be able to keep up, more likely to be trampled beneath the paws of their elders or run themselves ragged with exhaustion. Better to leave them behind to play in the yard or sleep off the effects of the smoke rather than chance it in the wilds.

Sesshoumaru remembered being so young, the first festival he could recall, when he’d barely come to his father’s hip, trying to keep up with his playmates on two feet rather than four, convinced that he could by sheer force of will, that he could control the transformation despite that sweet smell in the air. His father had laughed when he’d lost, gave himself over to claws and fur to pounce and play with the others. 

He’d been upset at being left behind, he’d howled for hours, dug a lone line in the dirt from his frantic pacing along the wall, knowing that if he crossed the barrier there would be a sound beating waiting for him. He had started his own hunt, too overcome by that thundering in his blood, he would have rampaged through the castle chasing after the other children, the guests, whatever moved within his line of sight, if he hadn’t been so small that the guests left behind hadn’t held him off til morning.

When his parents had returned, he’d tried to fight them, too, to his mother’s amusement. He’d snarled and snapped his teeth at them until his father had knocked sense into him, literally, and ordered him off to bed.

He’d hardly slept, kept awake by that feeling in his chest, until two days later when his mother had taken him out to the forests and let him go free. Let him run himself to exhaustion through the snow until he’d hobbled back to the castle on two feet. It was one of the few times he could remember his mother looking proud.

That urge threatened to take him even now. That heat beneath his skin and heaviness behind his eyes. But he had better control now, and kept it resolutely in check, despite the fact that with every finger the sun dipped lower, closer to the horizon, the screaming pulse in his ears grew louder, in tune with and nearly eclipsing the sound of the taiko drums.

Above them, the guests huddled, kept safe on the balconies and verandas that overlooked the yard. As safe as they would be before the dogs left for the hunt. The castle was meant to provide safety for those the clan had deemed important enough not to kill or those who had just ingratiated themselves well enough to turn the festival into a party rather than the sanctuary it had been intended as. Many of them were effected by the smoke just the same as the dogs, and for everyone else there was plenty drink to go around. Sesshoumaru spotted the fox kit and Jaken, shivering and clinging to the bannisters, trying to get a good look of the crowd below; he saw Kagura’s troupe, folded over the railings and looking giddy, but as much as he tried the woman in question was nowhere in sight…

He shook his head gently. Pitiful, that he was looking for her like some lovesick pup.

The yard had gotten hazy, difficult to see past the veil of smoke that lingered, clinging close to the ground. And it was getting too crowded, stuffy despite the chill in the air and the intermittent breeze. Despite their size, most of the dogs knew better than to tread too closely to where their two legged compatriots stood near or lounged on the stairs. The handful of them who still held onto their human forms as they watched the muted chaos of the other dogs.

Kinjirou and Ginhime included, he noticed with chagrin. They may as well have taken on their true forms, as they cowered with their tails between their legs, off to the side, eyes averted to the ground, shunned. Any respect for their power and prestige gone. Even the four legged dogs showed little respect, kicking snow and mud in their direction. Kinjirou looked up and caught him staring and quickly averted his gaze, and Sesshoumaru was sure his cousin was glad  _ their  _ father still lived, and had simply neglected to come.

Sesshoumaru heard the sound of his mother sniffing and clearing her throat, just barely above the noise of growling and drums, and when he turned to see what had caused her sniveling―

His hackles rose―every nerve wired to attention, venom pooling beneath his claws―his body rejecting what his eyes could see but his nose could not identify. 

Figures, moving beyond the smoke, descending from the bowels of the castle; swathed in silk and followed by the subtle  _ click-clack-click-clack  _ of something hollow… His senses struggled to make sense of it, until his gaze followed the line of spectres to the front of their march.

Sesshoumaru inhaled, seeking out that scent beyond the acrid burn of smoke―his head already clouded―but they brought a breeze with them, the fresh scent of spring. And leading them was… 

Kagura, haloed by the hazy smoke and setting sun. Her hair in a looser style than usual, a braid trailing from her bun and peppered with downy white feathers. Two large streaming fans, painted the same color as flames twirled in her hands. And on her face… a dog―or a  _ wolf’s _ ―skull fashioned as a mask covered the top half of her face, obscuring everything save for her lips and the glow of her eyes. Cut with the sun’s warm rays, giving the illusion of luminescence as she peered out at them from behind the holes that had once been eye sockets. Dressed in the furisode he’d given her, the snow patterned sleeves adding to the ethereal shimmer of the pitch black fabric as she swayed through the crowd, a ruby grin just barely visible beneath the skull.

And behind her, just as jubilant as she, a procession of corpses.

She’d said that she wanted to make use of them, and he hadn’t thought anything of it, but he saw the point of it now―the scent of death, something long since rotted, earth and stagnant water, disorientating, hidden away behind clean pressed robes, things that should not be…

They danced, threw their arms to the sky so quickly the flourish of their sleeves hid their skeletal hands.

He didn’t want to ponder where she’d gotten the clothes.

It was one of his cousins, a young dog several decades younger than he, that lunged first. She caught the phantom in her jaws, snapping bones beneath her teeth―only for the head to continue dancing away, cackling, as its costume fell to the slush.

Chaos then, the other dogs went for the specters, tore them apart while whatever splintered bits of bone that remained continued to dance, a spectacle of rib cages and loose spines twisting and writhing between the flames, broken teeth without jaws laughing and belching smoke―fire in the eyes of skulls that had been broken in by the years or by fangs. Their shredded clothes, carried by the wind, caught flame and continued to dance, a swirling tornado of sparks and ash and bone around them, singing the air, death and fire and  _ her scent _ ― 

It took him. 

The control he prided himself on slipped away, and his skin sloughed off with it. Replaced with fangs and fur and that instinctual rage that had been festering since the moment he’d stepped foot within the castle’s gates, spurred on by the energy amassed by so many dogs in one place―the hunt hadn’t yet begun, the sun still lingered, just kissing the horizon, but he needed to run― 

A line of Kagura’s phantoms began to dance around his paws, they weaved between his legs, bringing sparks along with them, the ash smudged his fur and the sparks caught in the dry hairs around his wrists, clouding the air with the scent of burnt hair. He smashed the specters beneath his paws, the sound of bone cracking delicious if not for the laughter that followed― _ Kagura _ ’s, carried by the wind along with the hot sparks that stung his nose and singed his fur, the skeletons kept dancing, but he only saw  _ her _ , leading them, her movements more fluid, buoyant on the eddies and punctuated with the ash and the snow and the firelight.

The hunt hadn’t yet begun, but Kagura may as well have sounded the horn herself. The phantoms were nothing more than bone and fabric, and yet the dogs tore into them with glee, snapping bone between their fangs, the crunch and crack louder than the drums and the sparks and smoke almost blinding, but Sesshoumaru paid them no mind, too focused on her and her dance.

Kagura weaved, jumped and bobbed between them, avoiding snarling maws and clawed paws that stomped in her path, as if she was unaware of the danger towering over her head, lost to the music of the carnage around her.

His mother and his uncle had given themselves over to the change, his uncle picked his teeth with a femur while his mother spat acid at the spectres, leaving the melted calcium to mix and solidify in the mud, the stink of if mingling with the already potent miasma that permeated the entire mountain.

Tensions rose, her phantoms an appetizer of what was to come, throwing the dogs into a frenzy, crazed as they’d already been. A smaller dog he didn’t recognize began to tear into an oni’s skeleton, close to where Kagura danced, he tossed the bones into the air and shook the bones until they were scattered and broken at his feet until there was nothing left within the scraps of fabric that sizzled between his teeth and he turned his attention…

To Kagura, who paid no mind to anything, too lost to the music. She just kept dancing, while the dog squared his shoulders and padded forward. 

It wouldn’t take much, small as he was, the dog still towered above her head, and while Kagura was powerful there was still a churning in his gut, a tingle over his flesh at the mere thought of the dog baring his teeth at her. At  _ his―  _

He leapt, snapped at the other dog’s flank―tore flesh, nothing more than a taste of blood―and the son of a bitch rounded on him, fangs dripping venom that sizzled in the slush. Sesshoumaru snarled, unphased by a dog not even half his size as he moved to bracket Kagura between his legs.

Whether she stayed put he couldn’t tell. Too focused on facing down the other dog, his lip curled and hackles raised until the bastard backed away, still snarling, but smart enough to recognize his betters. 

Kagura’s laughter tickled his ears. A gleeful thing. And when he looked down at her she was still dancing, framed between his paws, her robes splattered with mud and sleeves singed from the sparks. She swung her fans and he felt the movement, the way the air traveled along his skin, between his fur, in his lungs―he inhaled; that electric scent, the beginning of spring―almost a caress, the entire castle her domain as she made her puppets writhe beneath the setting sun…

The golden light glittered in her hair, and when she looked up―that wolf’s skull peering at him―her eyes glowed with the same hue and its fangs may as well have been her own, with the way she laughed. 

She reached up and pulled the skull from her face, revealing the flush to her cheeks, indents from where the bone had dug into her skin. But she was still laughing, still swaying to the sound of the drums and pulling the wind with her, letting it caress his snout and tickle his ears. He bowed his head, moved his nose closer, almost eye to eye so that he could find sanctuary in the bubble she’d created, free of smoke and fire, nothing but her scent to wash away that fog that had overtaken his mind― 

A howl went up, loud and ear piercingly shrill, and before it had ended there was already the thunder of paws, bodies throwing themselves over the castle’s wall and through the barrier, charging up the mountain in a frenzy. 

When he looked back down Kagura was still staring at him, expectant, her eyes glowing, bloodthirsty in the warm light. A strong wind buffeted them, dispersing the smoke and throwing the sparks and ash to the sky. She reached out a hand to his snout, tiny compared to him, but like a shock of cold to his system.

“Good luck.” And she smiled.

Sesshoumaru took a breath, breathed her in and savored it. And then he ran.

The barrier passed over him, and while his blood thundered he could still hear her laughter, carried on the wind. It followed him as he clambered up the mountainside, following the paw prints of his brethren, through the snow and the slush and trampled trees until he finally crested―the top of the mountain, where the smoke hung like a thick cloud, a great pillar impaling the sky, whipped by the wind and blotting out the last light of the sun as it rounded the horizon, giving way to a grey twilight…

Silence settled. Even the howling wind held its breath as they waited, heartbeats screaming, clinging to the barren rocks of the mountain’s peak, watching the sky as it darkened, from a misty grey to almost black, oppressive without the moon save for the pinpricks of flickering starlight. The River of Heaven began to flow, at first nothing more than a trickling stream but as the darkness grew so did its banks, until it was raging across the sky, watering the constellations as they danced to life. Brighter and brighter, shapes that his eyes struggled to recognize, but then one shivered and―walked out of the sky. 

Barely there, its limbs not quite yet defined, formed from millions of stars, so fleeting, his eyes struggled to focus on the writhing, sauntering mass until the sky was black as pitch, and the sheen of its fur solidified―jagged, glittering fangs opened into a wide mouthed grin, a furred spine, all shimmering silver, a trick of the light, maybe, hazy in the dance of the smoke around them, but the stars continued to sparkle, brighter and brighter, a bright fiery red in one blink and the color of blood the next, and when his eyes adjusted, he blinked and he could finally see―the snarling maw of the former Dog General towering above them all.

More ghosts emerged around them, stepping out of the stars, fur kissed by their light, but Sesshoumaru cared little for long dead ancestors. His eyes locked on the specter of his father, waiting, expectant―he’d come so far, once he might have scorned the progress he’d made, but now, with the spectre of his father watching him, Sesshoumaru hoped that he could see. His father, dead for nearly a century, but still just as formidable and imposing as an apparition. 

Did he know? Could he recognize his new strength? Did he acknowledge the son he had once scorned?

The ghosts never spoke, but he was sure that they understood… 

The great dog met his gaze, and with one slow nod he threw his head back and  _ howled. _

The others joined, howls and yips and barks of elation, dogs joining in on the call for a hunt, to run, to dance amongst the stars across the moonless sky… It didn’t matter who started the run, a ghost or flesh and blood, an avalanche of paws falling down the mountainside, plumes of smoke and snow following in their wake as they tore through the trees, a stampede thundering through the mountains, along the coast, past human villages and their cowering residents―all snarling fangs and sharp claws. 

Illusions of grandeur, all his self doubt and apprehension melting as they cascaded through the mountains, cliffs, and valleys.

The cold did not penetrate his fur, all he knew was the heat―blood in his mouth, bones between his teeth, ice beneath his paws. He only saw the red, bright, vibrant crimson―on his muzzle and down the skin of his neck, dripping from his jaws, the taste of metal that soothed his raw and frozen throat― 

He kept running, kept howling, kept his fangs bared, shoulder to shoulder, he kept pace, the icy air burning down his throat nothing in comparison to the chill that wafted off the apparition at his side. 

They kept running― 

Nothing more than feral dogs led by their ghosts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy December y’all. Not super happy with this chapter, which is why its taken so long to publish, but lemme know what y’all think! Hopefully I can get the next one up before the end of the year.


	22. Halta-Dance

The howls dwindled the same as the stars, muffled by the fingers of sunlight creeping into the sky. They clamored back to the mountain top with less enthusiasm than they’d had just hours prior, where the fires still glowed and spat thick gray smoke, the plumes just dark enough to hold off the inevitable, to hold onto some of the night. With his breath ragged in his chest, Sesshoumaru watched as they vanished, as his father's bright blue eyes faded into the yellowing sky until there was nothing left of the ghost save for clouds as soft as fur. 

They returned to the castle, had to pick their way back down the mountainside, but his cousins and the other dogs still had the energy enough to yip and whine and tussle, nipping at each other's flanks as they made their way into the entry yard. He cared little for it, too old to wrestle with pups and his blood still simmering hot and thundering through his veins, his vision unfocused and the scent of smoke still heavy in his nostrils. He needed a different sort of release, for what little energy he had left, but it wasn't until they'd passed through the barrier that he realized exactly what that was.

With needlepoint clarity, his nose found that familiar scent―

He left the rest behind, shedding his skin to stalk the halls on two legs instead of four; his face still hot and his blood thrumming beneath the skin, his flesh trembling and his fangs protruding past his lips, his form barely restrained in its humanoid guise. 

He only cared for that dull scent trail, weaving its way through hallways and stairs, as his feet thudded hollowly against the floorboards. He could taste it on his tongue, just as strongly as the blood, that electric scent, sharp like just before a crack of lightning, soothing like a summer rain, a storm brewing just beyond the horizon, and he would…

Burning eyes and throbbing flesh, his breath faltered, his mind flooded with thoughts and images and  _ ideas― _ the urge to throw her down on her knees, to wrap his hands around the nape of her neck and press her down into the floor. To make prey of her, have her at his mercy, bare to him as he speared into her, sheathing himself inside her with all the savagery his skin struggled to contain.

Would she scream? Would she fight him? Weep? Or would she moan and open herself wider to him? 

If he fisted his hands into her hair, would she press herself against him? He wanted to, to dig his claws into that insufferable bind, free the strands and haul her up against him. He would have to steady her, to dig his claws into her hips and keep her still as he used her. Blood would trickle down her thighs, staining his hands, and the scent… he would want more of it. He would want to clamp his fangs into the juncture of her throat, to feel that thrumming pulse, to pierce the flesh there and draw out more of that divine blood... But that wouldn't be enough, he wanted to continue down, leaving a trail of bites and bruises down her spine, gouge out that scar between her shoulder blades until it was only  _ his _ marks on her skin.

If he pressed her down hard enough, his hands around her wrists to stop her struggling, would her bones snap? Would they be hollow, like a bird's? Nothing but the wind beneath her skin, her bones brittle underneath him as he had his way with her. He wanted to have her scream for him, make her  _ hurt.  _ Make her know  _ nothing but him _ . He could, he would― 

The door slid open with a rattle, and he hissed through his fangs.

"I was wondering when you'd show up."

Kagura wasn't looking at him, a dark silhouette against a yellow sky. The doors to the veranda were open, and she leaned one shoulder against the frame, a finger twirling through her loose hair and watching the courtyard below.

"Are you all always this…  _ excited?" _

He didn't care to know why she asked the question, only cared for the fact that she  _ wasn't looking at him. _

Not even when he came up behind her and wound his arms around her waist, pressing himself into her backside as his other hand found its way to her throat, his claws scratching against her skin as he buried his nose in the hollow behind her ear and inhaled deep.

“I guess you ain’t any different,” she chuckled, but he felt her stiffen, fidget against his hold as he pressed himself against her back. Her scent changed, turned to something a little sweeter when his claws bit into the fabric at her hips. She hissed. “What’re you―”

She gasped when he bit down on the flesh just below her jaw, hard enough to bruise, holding her steady as he ground her hips back into his. Her hands snapped to his wrists, she dug her blunt nails into his skin even as the rest of her moved with him, arching into him with a hiss that left him breathless― _ mindless― _ fixated only on the salty taste of her skin and wanting  _ more― _ He pulled away for the briefest second, enough time to spin her to face him, to cage her between himself and the wall, ripping the fabric from her hips in the process.

Her hands scrambled across his chest, but his teeth returned to her shoulder before she could reprimand him. He pulled her robes apart, and this time when he bit down it was hard enough to draw blood.

Kagura choked on a scream, but Sesshoumaru hardly heard it, hardly felt the fingers that knotted in his hair, tugging at the base of his scalp―he  _ did  _ feel when her hips canted, legs opened just enough that he could feel the heat of her through the fabric of his pants. He ground into her, his hands roving over chilled skin, he gripped her thighs and lifted her, claws dug into her and the tangy scent of her blood met his nose as he lapped at the broken flesh at her shoulder, biting and sucking bruises along her collarbone. 

With her heat against him he ached, burned hot deep in his belly, he  _ needed― _ but his mind couldn’t think past the sensation of her movement. __

She bucked against him, hissed through her teeth, but it only served to cage her further, flattened against the wall when her motion opened her legs wider. She kept pulling at his hair, tried to scratch at his chest, but she could only yank apart his robes, with how tightly they were pressed together. She clawed at his arms, his wrists, any bare skin she could find. He returned in kind with an impotent thrust against her, so rough that he thought he might have heard the wall crack― 

Blunt nails found his throat.

He choked, her fingers clasped around his windpipe and she yanked him back, her grip fisted in the hair at the base of his scalp. 

_ “Oi.” _

He had to stare down his nose at her, with the awkward angle she forced his neck. Their breath fogged the air, and Kagura glared up at him, glassy eyed, mouth hanging open as she tried to take in a breath, her lips just as red as the stain across her throat― 

_ “Bad dog.” _

With a snarl he snapped his head forward, crashed his lips onto hers, the taste of her blood still on his tongue―only for her to bite down on the flesh of his bottom lip. 

Sesshoumaru jerked back and the salt of his own blood flooded his mouth. 

Kagura cackled. She took advantage of his shock, bucking off the wall hard enough to make him stumble― 

“Down,  _ boy.” _

―A gust of wind lashed at his calves, probably hard enough to break skin, and Sesshoumaru didn’t have the sense of mind to brace his fall or to keep Kagura from crashing down on top of him, her hand still fisted around his throat―it knocked the wind from him and would surely leave him bruised, but her grip didn’t lessen. 

Even when he thrashed and bucked against her, dug his claws deeper into the flesh of her thighs, Kagura held firm.

“A little warning, maybe, next time, hm?” 

His chest began to ache, the longer she held, her palm pressed flat against his windpipe and her fingers digging into his veins and cutting off his blood supply… She stared down at him, one eyebrow raised, a wild woman―clothes disheveled, her robes open and ripped, hair tussled, blood and rouge smeared across her lips, the bite marks along her shoulder wept, blood pooling in the divet of her collarbone and spilling over, winding a trail between her breasts and to her belly… Sesshoumaru stilled, even as his vision swam he stared, mesmerized by that drop of red that danced a line down her skin…

“That’s much better, isn’t it?”

Her grip loosened, yet he found that he couldn’t move, frozen there with her thighs bracketing his hips and her heat pressing down on him…  _ Gods, he was trembling― _ Kagura smoothed a thumb over his lips, toying with his elongated fangs― 

“What a terrifying face you have there.” The sun must have crested the mountain top, because when she spoke the room suddenly began to glow with light, setting her eyes aflame as she leaned back just enough to play with the tie at his waist. “Now, use those big scary fangs to tell me what it is you _ want _ .”

A growl rumbled in his chest. He lay there, aching, and she wanted to play―? He went to sit up, but a hand slammed against his throat pushed him back down.

“ _ No _ .” She smiled and tugged at the tie. “What do you  _ want _ , Sesshoumaru?” 

His jaw worked, throat sore from her hold and fangs too long to properly speak:

“ _ I want _ ―”

His voice was raw. Kagura pulled the tie free, but did not touch him.

“― _ You _ . _ ” _

She freed him from his clothes. “Is that it?”

“ _ Kagura.” _

“There,” her smile turned wicked, “that wasn’t so hard was it?”

And she impaled herself on him.

She laughed when he snarled and bucked against her, dug his claws deeper into her flesh. He’d scented her arousal, but he hadn’t expected how hot she’d be, how  _ wet― _ she ground down on him so roughly he had to bite his lip to stifle a sound. She did not wait, began to move as soon as he bottomed out inside her _ ;  _ she scratched welts into his chest as she rode him, rolled her hips against his thrusts. Fog clouded around her head, from them both, as she laughed and moaned, and he snarled, tried to keep hold of her even as she pressed him deeper into the floor―her hair just as unkempt as the rest of her, blood red eyes that rivaled his own, bloody lips and clothes in disarray as if she’d been the one in battle― 

A wild woman, a storm made flesh, and  _ gods―  _

_ Beautiful. _

Kagura’s hips stuttered, her nails dug into his thighs when she leaned back, presenting him a full view, that trail of blood leading down and staining where they joined. She cried out as she came, twitching around him even as he kept moving, until she couldn’t hold herself up any longer and slumped against his chest. Sesshoumaru caught her, laved at the bloody bruises along her throat, one hand splayed across the scarred skin between her shoulder blades while the other kept her hips moving, keeping a steady motion until her breath hitched and she was shivering around him all over again. 

He followed soon after, exhaustion getting the better of him as he spent himself inside her. 

The heat of his skin slowly dwindled, replaced by the icy chill of winter, but Sesshoumaru took a moment, buried his nose in the crook of her shoulder and inhaled…

Kagura shifted, and as remorseful as he was to let her do it, she pulled away from him, just enough that she could look at his face.

“Feeling better?” 

He didn’t have it in him to respond, his throat too raw, so instead he pulled her close once more, brushed her lips with his as he rolled them over so that he could cover them both in his furs. Kagura didn’t object this time, more than happy to get comfortable under his weight as he languidly licked the remaining blood from her throat. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and nosed the crown of his head when he lowered his head to her chest, reveling in her scent and the sound of her still fluttering heart beat, a steady sound that mirrored his own. Sesshoumaru let his eyes drift closed when Kagura’s hands came up to tangle in his hair, he breathed in deep, content and warm in her arms, because he…

_ Because he…? _

* * *

Her legs had gone numb hours ago and her skin was more than a little clammy, sticky with dried blood. Still, Kagura didn’t move. 

A breeze drifted in and she didn’t bother to redirect it. She was warm enough, cocooned in fur and the arms of the man that had fallen asleep on top of her. She wound a few strands of his hair through her fingers, admiring how they shimmered in the light of the setting sun. Her other hand lightly traced a line up and down his spine, in tune with the slow rise and fall of his chest when he inhaled, exhaled.

He’d looked…  _ unhinged,  _ when he’d come for her in the morning. So at odds with the usual stoic facade he liked to wear. She’d known that it was all an act, that there was rage swimming behind that icy stare, she was more than a little ashamed to admit that it had frightened her when he’d first laid hands on her. At the same time… 

It had been exhilarating. 

A thrill shooting up her spine at the sight, seeing him all feral and savage, blood-eyed, hardly able to speak past his fangs. She’d always liked his pretty face, to be sure, but Sesshoumaru as uninhibited as he’d been? That power had always been intoxicating.

That hadn’t meant that she’d let him do as he pleased. He hadn’t been in his right mind, and the only thing to be done with a rabid dog was put them down.

His breath faltered and she was almost remorseful when he shifted, coming to wakefulness slowly―she felt the brush of his lashes against her skin, the way his breathing sped up, the subtle way his weight lifted from her. But he didn’t move quite yet, so Kagura continued with her ministrations until the sun began to shine a little too brightly into her eyes.

“I know you’re awake.”

He went still.

“If you wanted to cuddle all you had to do was―”

Sesshoumaru sat up, and she almost whined at the loss of his warmth.

But he didn’t go far. He stayed cradled between her thighs, his arms bracketed beside her waist, only far enough that he could look her in the eye, and she did have to stifle a chuckle at the state of him―and the state of the thing prodding at her thigh, ready and awake. His eyes had returned to their usual gold, but his pupils were still blown wide and the lines across his puffy cheeks were still a little jagged, his hair a frizzy mess and there was a spot of dried blood on his cheek. From whatever prey he’d devoured last night. Or hers. She supposed she fit under the category.

Sesshoumaru’s eyes flickered down to her mauled shoulder, a furrow formed between his brows and his lips parted as if he might speak, but then he just turned his head and looked out the doors. “...How long?” 

His voice was rough, raw, like he’d spent the whole night screaming. She didn’t need to clarify what he meant, so instead she merely waved a hand outside.

“Can’t you tell? It’s been the whole day.” 

His squinted, like he was trying to think. Coming up with an insult or a denial, maybe, indignant about being caught sleeping the day away. She wanted to ask how long it had been since he’d last slept―but then he tilted his head, presenting her with a pointed ear, as if trying to hear her better, and when he opened his mouth his voice was soft:

“You stayed.”

Something pinched, deep in her chest, stealing her breath, and she could do nothing but stare at the side of his face. Her lips parted and her mind went blank, unable to think… and he noticed, because he turned back to look at her, and the sunlight cut through his eyes just perfectly, so warm and luminous and― 

Oh.

_ Oh. _

“...What else am I supposed to do when a foul smelling dog collapses on top of me?” she snapped. Or more like  _ tried  _ to snap, but the words came out softer than she’d intended. And instead of rising to the bait, Sesshoumaru just kept staring at her, still puffy faced and heavy-eyed.

“You hardly seemed to mind.”

And she wanted to fight it, but instead she just sighed and lifted a hand to his cheek to trace his stripes with her thumb. He leaned into her touch and her chest ached again.

“Shut up,” she hissed, “and _come_ _here_.”

* * *

Every dog she passed looked the same: ragged, listless, and pleasantly exhausted.

There were no festivities tonight, the hosts too drowsy to even try to put on a show. But there were still guests crowded in the main hall, strangely somber even as they told and retold stories of the scene they’d witnessed the night before. Momiji was probably at the head of that little gathering, but Kagura hadn’t cared to make an appearance.

Fresh from the bath, her skin still steamy in the cold air, she gingerly picked her way through the outer verandas of the castle, eavesdropping on the candlelit shadows against the paper screens, their muted conversations and whispered laughter, interrupted only by the wet slap of fat snowflakes as they crashed into the earth. The clouds had moved in while she’d been bathing, but the night was still, nowhere close to a winter storm, just gentle snowfall and silence echoing across the valley…

“Watch what you’re doing, brat!”

Or, maybe not.

Kagura stepped off the veranda into the rapidly building snowbank and picked her way across the yard to the stables. Even with the wind as quiet as it was she knew what she’d find before she even turned the corner.

“Maybe if you weren’t so small you wouldn’t need my help!”

Then came a squawk and the sound of something crashing to the ground, followed by a sigh and squealed excuses and apologies.

When she did round the doorway, she wasn’t surprised to see the frog and the fox scrambling over a box that had fallen from the dragon’s saddle and spilled its contents into the dirt; fabrics and foodstuffs that had only been saved by their packaging. Sesshoumaru stood off to the side, dull eyed as he watched the pair’s sorry excuse for packing. He turned his gaze when she entered, and she swore she saw his posture straighten. 

The other two kept bickering amongst themselves, trying to reorganize the mess they’d made, both of them went for a bolt of cloth at the same time and wound up in a futile tug of war, hissing at each other. Kagura shot Sesshoumaru an incredulous glance, he offered a shrug.

Neither the imp or the kit noticed her presence, even as she stepped up behind them. Not until she reached out and plucked the fabric from their hands, making the fox shriek in surprise.

“Well, this is quite nice, isn’t it? Who’s it for?” she drawled, already knowing the answer as she held up the ream of sky blue cotton dotted with pale pink cherry blossoms.

“Kagura!” The frog was quicker to get over his shock. He had to jump to try to snatch the fabric back, but she merely held it higher over his head. “―That is for  _ Rin!  _ How dare you! Give it back, I can’t have you sullying it!”

She almost laughed. She’d never thought the little gremlin to be fond of the girl, but she supposed that in trying to insult her he would sing the girl’s praises if he had to. She ignored him, even as he kept squawking at her, saying how the fabric was a gift from Sesshoumaru- _ sama _ , this and that. He held off on outright insulting her, knowing better than to throw curses at his master’s  _ mistress _ , and settled for screeching at her instead, figuring that a gift for the girl still held greater importance than her. 

Kagura just folded the bolt as cleanly as she could and handed it off to the fox. He’d always been much more agreeable than his counterpart.

“I’m sure the girl will be glad for it,” she said, meeting Sesshoumaru’s gaze with a sly smirk, “though I have to admit that I’m a little jealous of you showering gifts on another woman.”

The comment had its intended effect. Sesshoumaru blinked, taking a moment to absorb what she’d said before he sneered and rolled his eyes. The fox looked away, wide eyed. And she was sure she’d broken the frog’s tiny brain, because he just stuttered and stared at her, frozen and incredulous. 

Sesshoumaru’s voice was the only thing that broke his trance, the bark of his name made the little thing jump back into action, scurrying to fix up the mess. Kagura chuckled and moved to stand beside Sesshoumaru, his left, so she could easily see his face. He didn’t look at her, but his weight shifted in her direction.

The fox gave up on helping, instead he lept up onto the dragon’s flank and tried very hard not to stare at them, his eyes pointedly on his hands in his lap. She spotted the flea, trying to stay inconspicuous hidden in the boy’s hair.

“ _ Shippou.” _ The boy flinched at Sesshoumaru’s voice. “You will say nothing of what has transpired here.”

He nodded sharply, but still didn’t raise his head.

“The same goes for you, Myouga.”

Something like an affirmation sounded from the boy’s head. Kagura stifled a laugh into her fist just as the imp loudly announced that he was finished.

The dragon followed his lead when the frog pulled on his reins. Such a calm beast, to willingly follow the little green thing out into the snow. Fat snowflakes caught in her hair and on her shoulders, soaking through the fabric. They were lucky that the weather was as calm as it was, Kagura could feel the winds―her sense sharper now that they’d lifted the barrier that kept them inside―miles away, all just as drowsy as the ones that blanketed the castle. It wouldn’t be a pleasant ride, with the temperature and the snow, but they would surely reach that little human village by sunrise. 

The imp said his goodbyes, well wishes, and cries of grief of how much he would miss his precious master. Sesshoumaru acknowledged none of them, and merely ordered the imp to ensure that the packages were to be delivered,  _ unharmed,  _ and Kagura was sure that the frog understood the true meaning behind that. 

Sesshoumaru shot another pointed look at the boy, who flinched and wished them both well for good measure.

“Have a safe trip!” Kagura called when they took to the sky. “See you never.”

Jaken squawked something back, unintelligible, while the boy stared back at them, never taking his eyes off of them until they disappeared around the mountainside. Kagura watched them go, and with one last act of kindness, asked the winds to ease their travel.

At her side, Sesshoumaru didn’t move until they were out of sight, and only then did he turn to look down at her, just as a snowflake kissed her nose.

He reached out to brush it away with his thumb. She should have been nervous, when his claws ghosted in front of her eyes. Instead, she met his gaze and smiled, resigning herself to this stupid fate, whatever it meant.

Winter was far from over, so Kagura looped her arm with his, surprised when he let her, and led them back inside. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well this concludes part… 2 ish? Of this story. There may not be an update for a while, so just bear with me for now. As always, thank you all so much for your kind reviews, they're always appreciated!


End file.
